We Are NOT Sports People
by Pudgoose
Summary: The SSX Tricky group is persuaded to do a series of high school sports, whether they like it or not. Will they survive with their sanities intact? Or will they kill each other first?
1. School's out for Summer!

**Disclaimer**:  SSX Tricky and its characters belong respectively to EA Sports BIG.

We Are NOT Sports People 

Chapter One

It was when Elise spilt milk all over her favorite blouse that she got the first inkling of a bad day ahead.  She jumped back and shrieked, picking at her shirt with forefinger and thumb, the wet material clinging onto her like a balloon would to static-charged hair.  The jug, which she had accidentally dropped onto the counter, was now spewing milk all over the countertop and on the floor, creeping under her bare feet.  She groaned and slapped the now half-empty milk jug, making it do a 360, spraying liquid in a complete circle.  Elise bared her teeth and put her fist to her head, groaning again at the bigger mess she'd just made.

Kaori winced and stood up, rushing over to the cabinet under the sink, looking for a paper towel roll.  She looked up at Elise and winced again.  The accident was half her fault too.  It had been her cereal that Elise was fixing.

"Here, I have got it," Kaori mumbled, stepping foreword and picking the milk jug back up, setting it on its bottom.  "Sorry for this, Elise.  Go and change your shirt.  I am sorry."

The milk was now spreading downward from Elise's blouse, staining the tops of her khaki shorts.  The tall blonde's face contorted into an ugly look at the feeling, and she stepped backward.  She slipped and grabbed the countertop to steady herself.  Kaori looked at her.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine," Elise choked out, standing up again.  "My feet're wet.  That's all."

Kaori nodded and crouched on the floor, placing layer after layer of paper towels on the mess.  Elise turned and walked out on tiptoes, her fingers pinching her wet shirt and making sure it wasn't touching her more than it had to.

On her way to her bedroom, Zoe trudged out of her own room, eyes bloodshot and hair mussed.  She stopped short, watching Elise with beady eyes as she walked down the hall on her toes like some sort of disgruntled ballerina.  "Whoa, what happened to you?"

"Cereal attack," Elise grumbled back quickly, not bothering to look Zoe in the eye.  Zoe snickered as she passed.

"I see…"  Zoe sniffed the air and her bleary eyes widened.  "Whoa, you better change into something quick and take a shower, cause you stink like something bad!"

"Shut it, tattoo face," Elise barked back, opening her bedroom door and tiptoeing inside, slamming it shut.  Zoe snickered and continued walking, looking on the floor and noting small, darker patches of color in the carpet where milk had dripped off of Elise.  She looked up when she reached the kitchen, watching Kaori throw away handful after handful of drenched paper towels, muttering to herself in rapid Japanese.

"Here," Zoe said, stepping foreword and opening the under-sink cabinet.  "A rag would work much better than that."  She fished out a couple of dishrags and tossed them at Kaori, studying the full damage the spill had done.

"Arigatou," Kaori mumbled back absentmindedly, taking the rag and using it as her new clean-up weapon.  Zoe watched for a second or two before carefully taking a step up and reaching over Kaori and the spill for the milk jug.  She grabbed it and its top, wiped the excess milk off the jug, and snapped the top back on, putting it back in the refrigerator.

"This is definitely a waker-upper," Zoe murmured to herself, stretching and wrinkling her nose as the potent smell of spilt milk.  "What better way to greet your day…"

Zoe reached over Kaori again to grab the coffee can and the filter slips, stifling a yawn in the process.  She rubbed out the excess water in the creases of her eyes, turning the coffee pot on.

"That is the last time I ask Elise to make me a bowl of cereal," Kaori announced, standing up and stretching her back, strained from being crouched for so long.  Zoe snickered, stopping a yawn that threatened to escape.  "In fact, that may just be the last time I ever eat cereal for breakfast.  Misoshiru is so much easier…"

Zoe watched her switch from English to Japanese, continuing to mumble to herself as she picked up the rags and left the room to drop them in the laundry basket.  She returned seconds later and hesitantly stepped on and off the spot on the floor where the milk had been spilt.  She looked up at Zoe.

"It is a little sticky."

"No big deal.  I'll get it later.  Get yourself something to eat."

Kaori smiled and thanked Zoe again, reaching for her bowl of dry corn flakes.  She noisily chomped on those, retiring to the kitchen table.  Zoe looked outside the bus window at the bleak area beyond.  The SSX Tricky group had stopped at a rest area for the night, allowing their bus drivers time to regain their strength.  All Zoe could see beyond her window was concrete, and past that, a ways away, the bus JP and Luther shared.

"Oh, by the way," Kaori suddenly chirped.  She swallowed a mouthful of dry cereal and smiled at Zoe, her youthful innocence beaming in her smile.  Kaori certainly didn't mind the mornings, even if they consisted of spilt milk.  "Rahzel came by our bus this morning, and said he wants to meets with the group at 11.  He said he needed to tell us something important, and that everyone has to be there."

Zoe turned to look back out the window, watching as the bus across the way seemed to shift back and forth due to Luther's large footsteps.  "So he's finally going to come out with the big secret, huh?" Zoe mocked, smirking.  "Our next publicity stunt, I'm sure.  Personally, I think we do too much public showbiz and not enough snowboarding.  Boarding will get people's attention much more than watching us put on some stupid show."

Kaori shrugged and looked back down at her bowl, turning the flakes over idly.  "Well, it _is_ Rahzel's decision.  He is the manager, after all."

Zoe frowned.  "We need a new manager, then."  She turned her gaze to Kaori and smiled, winking.  "What do you think?  Kaori the Manager.  Kinda has a ring to it, if you ask me."

Kaori grinned back.  "Zoe the Manager sounds better."

The older waved her hand in mock sheepishness.  "Oh, go on."

Two cups of coffee, a shower and two hours later, Elise, Kaori and Zoe exited their bus, dressed and ready to go.  The stench of milk now gone, Elise felt much better, and couldn't help but smile at the bright sun, putting her sunglasses on.  The trio headed over to Rahzel's personal tour bus, spotting their manager already waiting for them outside.  Rahzel flashed a mouthful of pearly teeth.

"Ah, our Charlie's Angels," he said with a grin, leaning against his bus as they approached.  Elise smiled back.

"You got that right, baby."

"Where are the rest of the boarders?"

Elise shrugged.  "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Care to tell us what this meeting thing is about?" Zoe prodded, crossing her arms.  Rahzel shook his head.

"Not until everyone's here.  I'm not really in the mood to repeat myself ten million times."

In pairs and trios, the rest of the boarders arrived shortly after, all asking the same question Zoe had, and all receiving the same answer.  It wasn't until Marisol and Seeiah trotted outside, Marisol still running a brush quickly through her silky hair, that everyone was finally present.  Elise sneered, crossing her arms.

"_Please_ don't do that in public, honey," she commented loudly, glaring at the Latino blonde.  "Heaven only knows what lice you're throwing into the air."

"Nothing you're not used to, I'm sure," Marisol quipped back, stuffing her hairbrush in her pocketbook and turning to look at Rahzel.  The disc jockey smiled at everyone.

"Glad you all could make it," he greeted.  Elise quirked an eyebrow.

"No need to compliment us, dearie, it was no big stretch.  Wasn't like we had to walk a mile or anything, just get up at an ungodly hour."

"Yea, and speaking of that," Moby suddenly added, his English accent ringing richly in everyone's ears, "why is it that we always have these meeting things so early in the morning?  I need my beauty sleep, mate, I'm sure you understand."

JP snorted, watching an invisible something far off in the distance.  "Funny," he said, his French tongue accenting his English words, "it doesn't seem to do a thing for you, Moby."

"Interesting comment coming from a rat-faced weasel, mate," Moby snarled back, sneering.  "Honestly JP, how many plastic surgery operations 'ave you 'ad?"

Zoe snickered and shot Moby an amused glance.  JP turned to look at his English rival.  "None, Moby, as my beauty is natural, but I'll gladly pay for you to have one.  It would be _well_ worth spending my money."

Eddie turned his head away, overcome by a coughing fit, his afro quivering slightly.  Before any further snide exchanges could be made, however, Rahzel pointedly interrupted.

"Now people, please, calm down," he said, frowning.  "I'm actually in a good mood today, and you guys are about to spoil it all."

Elise couldn't stop herself.  "Rahzel?  In a good mood?  Whoa somebody, go get me a fresh pair of pants, I think I just wet myself."

"Shut it, senorita," Marisol barked, her blonde hair flipping over her shoulder as she sharply turned her head to glare at Elise.  "The man is trying to tell us something, and I'm actually interested.  I'm not going to have you make this any longer than it needs to be."

Rahzel continued before an even angrier remark could be returned.  He cleared his throat.  "As I was saying, you're all probably curious as to what events are coming up in the future.  Well, we're doing something we've never done before, and I'm sure it's going to boost our positive standing with the media.  Just think, the number of fans you all have right now might double as soon as the next season!"

Zoe nudged Kaori's arm.  "What'd I tell ya…" she whispered into the Japanese teen's ear.

"Get to the point, mate, what are we doing?" Moby barked.

"You twelve are going to be participating in—"

But he was interrupted, once again, this time by a shrill howl of laughter.  Everyone jumped and turned to see Psymon doubling over in amusement, clutching his stomach weakly.  Rahzel crossed his arms and scowled, while most everyone else rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

"Stark, would you like to share with the rest of the class?" Rahzel growled warningly.  Psymon sighed with pleasure and looked up, pretending to wipe tears of humor out of his eyes.

"My—my tattoo" —He choked on laughter once again, as if it were too funny to be spoken of—"my tattoo just made the most _hilarious_ comment!"

"Well that's just lovely," Rahzel snapped.  "But I'd really appreciate it if you paid more attention to _me_ than your tattoo, just for the moment."

"Yea Sketchy, pay attention," Elise said with a wry grin.  Psymon glared at her before Rahzel spoke up again.

"Like I was saying, you all will be participating in a series of sporting events.  Not the ones you all are used to, mind, but the simpler ones.  Like sports you'd find in an everyday high school, such as basketball, soccer, volleyball, tennis—"

"WHOOOOOA!" Luther suddenly interrupted, staring at Rahzel as if he were mad.  "You ain't convincing me into doing nothing!  I ain't playing no volleyball game like some kinda pansy woman!"

"Yes you will, Luther," Rahzel said sharply.  "I don't care if I have to wrap you in a straightjacket, bind your legs together, and roll you over to the court in a wheelbarrow, you _will_ be participating in every event.  Everyone has to."

"BUT IT'LL MAKE ME A PANSY!"

"Everyone else is doing it!" Rahzel pleaded, motioning to the rest of the crowd.  Luther seemed unmoved.

"Well they're all pansies anyway!  But I ain't, and I ain't becoming one!"  He crossed his arms stubbornly for a few seconds, before looking as if he remembered something vitally important.  He turned to look at JP.  "You ain't a pansy either, JP, just the rest of 'em."

JP waved the apology away airily.  "No offense taken, Luther."

Rahzel rolled his eyes.  "Never mind, no use arguing with you now.  Just know you'll be doing it, or you'll be expelled from the SSX Tricky tour group."  Luther looked outraged, not to mention shocked.  Rahzel continued amongst his indignant sputtering.  "What is the point of this, you ask?  Well, we're doing a campaign to encourage kids to play sports, particularly older kids.  Teenagers.  That's why we're selecting high school-based sports."

Eddie and Brodi looked at each other and grinned, Eddie murmuring something to the gentle giant.  JP was mumbling positive remarks in Luther's ear, brightening Luther's sour countenance a bit.  Marisol and Seeiah were giggling excitedly, and Psymon looked too stunned to say anything.  Mac grinned and looked at Moby.

"Man, I'm gonna _waste_ you when it comes time for this basketball game!" he taunted with teenaged arrogance.  "I shoot hoops with my friends all the time!  You're _so_ going down!"  Moby scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"_Please_, you stupid git, you can't beat me at anything."

"Can to."

"Cannot!"

"Can to!"

"Cannot!"

"Can _to_!"

Moby opened his mouth to further argue, but Zoe slapped Moby playfully on his rear end, abruptly distracting the Englishman.  Moby shouted out a, "WHA-HO!" and turned around, laughing nervously when he saw his best friend smirking behind him.

"Just drop it," Zoe chided, winking at him.  She paused, glanced at his rear, and added a playful, "Smart ass."

Moby chortled low in his throat.  "Right back at ya, mate."

"High Water High has willingly agreed to let us film our games at their school.  Yes, _film_," Rahzel added at Luther's look of dread.  "This isn't going to be the kind of event that'll just be written in the corner of a no-name newspaper.  They'll be airing our little mini-olympics by next month, and that's why it's so important that every single one of you participate."

Kaori raised her hand shyly.  Rahzel looked at her.  "Yes?"

"What if you have to participate in a sport you don't know how to play?"

Rahzel smiled.  "Don't worry.  Whether you guys need it or not, everyone will be getting an overview of each sport before it's played."

She nodded slowly, unease still evident in her eyes.  Mac smiled at her and bumped his shoulder gently against hers.  "No fears," he whispered with a smile.  "We'll tackle this thing together.  I'll be behind you every step of the way."

"Arigatou gozaimasu," she whispered back, her Asian eyes sparkling.

"We'll be arriving at High Water High in about an hour," Rahzel continued, "then you'll be participating in your first event, which is… volleyball, if I'm not mistaken."

There were two simultaneous groans, but Moby's drowned out Luther's by far.  "No way in 'ell!" Moby shouted, crossing his arms.  "You should know me better than that, mate!  I don't play sports on an empty stomach!  Can't we eat lunch first?!"

"I'm sorry Moby, but that's the way it's been set up.  You can eat lunch after."

Moby groaned melodramatically.  "I'm _already_ 'ungry…"

JP rolled his pretty blue eyes, muttering impatiently, "Ugh… English…"

"Now," Rahzel said, slapping his hands and rubbing them together, "if there are no more questions, please return back to your buses, and we'll be on our way."  He paused, looking around.  Luther cleared his throat.

"I have a question."

"Yes, Luther?"

"You sure there ain't no way outta this mess?" he growled, staring at his feet—or, rather, at his overlarge stomach, as that was all he could see.

Rahzel's jaw rocked on its hinge.  "_Yes_ Luther, I'm positively sure.  There is no way you're—"

"Not even if I pay ya?" Luther pressed.  He turned to JP.  "Yo boss, can I borrow a couple thousand dollars—"

"NOT EVEN IF YOU PAY ME!" the disc jockey shouted, losing his temper.  "YOU ARE COMPETING, LUTHER, AND THAT'S FINAL!  NOW, ARE THERE ANY _UNSTUPID_ QUESTIONS THAT YOU ALL HAVE?"

Seeiah fought hard to hide a smile as she raised her hand.  Rahzel looked at her.  "Um, yes, I have a question.  Is 'unstupid' even a word?"

Marisol burst into a fit of giggles and buried her face into Seeiah's shoulder to stifle them.  She slapped Seeiah's hand blindly, and Seeiah tried not to look too tickled with herself.  Rahzel didn't look nearly as amused.

"All right then," he said slowly.  "No questions.  Good.  Get back to your buses, _now_."

"So much for good moods," Elise drawled loudly, smirking.  Rahzel glared at her retreating back, mumbling something to himself about overpaid Canadian snowboarders, and entered his own bus, slamming the door.

Zoe playfully bent her knees and charged at Psymon's back, her shoulder making contact with his shoulder blade.  Psymon stumbled and turned around, looking murderous until he spotted her.  He snorted and smirked, crossing his arms.

"I should have known.  You don't have any balance, after all."

"Shut up," Zoe said lightly, smiling at him.  "So, does this whole mini-olympics event sound interesting to you at all?"

The feisty-looking boarder quirked a pierced eyebrow.  "Are you kidding me?  Of course not."

"Awww," Zoe pretended to pout, her eyes glinting.  "Sour puss.  I'm actually a little excited about the idea of playing basketball again.  I used to play for my junior varsity team."

Psymon's teeth flashed.  "Oh really?  We'll have to go one-on-one sometime…"

"Afraid not!" a voice interrupted them loudly, and Zoe felt an arm being wrapped around her shoulders.  She looked up to meet Moby's brown eyes, contrasting her bright blue ones.  "'Cause she'll be too busy going one on one-with-me, won't ya, Zoe baby?"

She laughed richly.  "You know it!"

"Yea, that's boss," Moby said with a smile, squeezing Zoe's shoulder once before letting go.  "Like it.  See ya at this ruddy school!"

"All right!" she said with a smile, watching him strut off to his and Psymon's bus.  Moby followed the erratic boarder inside, who'd left Zoe's side not a second after the Englishman arrived.  Zoe sighed and walked past bus after bus, listening to the squeak and slam of doors opening and shutting.

The sun was bright today, almost too bright, and even at eleven o'clock, it was irritatingly hot.  Zoe had never liked high temperatures, liking summer even less.  The only good thing about the midyear season was mountain biking, and even then, that sport usually provided for a cool, refreshing breeze.  She raised her arm and wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand.

She couldn't wait for winter to arrive, because not only did she need it, but Elise did too.  Summer temperatures seemed to feed Elise's already fiery temper, and with Elise and Marisol competing in a volleyball game, Zoe was sure the Canadian bombshell would snap.

Suddenly, up ahead at their bus, Elise's bedroom window banged open.  A huge bag of cosmetics rained down from the opening, clanking loudly on the concrete amongst Elise's impatient ranting.

That is, if she hadn't snapped already.

Translations:

Arigatou—Thank you

Arigatou gozaimasu—Thank you very much

Misoshiru—Miso soup

Author's Notes:

Yay.  First chapter.  Not much to say, other than this fic will be more light-hearted than my last.  There might be a bit of romance, if any at all, but not too much.  I'm shooting for humor with this baby.

~**P**udgoose


	2. Bumping a ball may lead to bumps on some...

**Disclaimer**:  SSX Tricky and its characters belong to EA Sports BIG and um… probably that executive producer guy with the really long last name that's in every single DVD feature, lol.  I think his first name's Steve… I've yet to decode what his last name is…

We Are NOT Sports People 

Chapter Two

Mac felt a pang of nostalgia when he entered the High Water Gymnasium.  The smell of floor-cleaning solution, polished bleachers, and basketball hide was an all-too-familiar scent to his nose.  For a lost second, he longed to be home again and back at his own school, but Kaori started speaking, interrupting his thoughts.

"Wow… so big," she whispered, doing an entire spin on her toes, staring up at the ceiling in awe.

"Yea, I know," he said, smiling at her.  "Kinda gives you the impression that you're real small, doesn't it?"

She frowned and shook her head.  "No.  It gives me the impression that someone spent far too much time building a gymnasium so tall."

Mac blinked, just as Rahzel cleared his throat, turning around and standing in front of the SSX Tricky group.  He motioned to the volleyball court behind him, as well as the cameras and microphones that were being set up around the court.

"Here we are, people.  Now, first and foremost, I suppose I should go over the rules of volleyball with you."  He shot Kaori a warm smile and continued.  "Volleyball is a very simple sport, played with a ball about the size of a soccer ball, but lighter than one.  Here."  Rahzel bent down and picked up a white ball, showing everyone.

"Everyone's seen a volleyball before, Rahzel," Eddie droned, looking extremely bored and a little sleepy.

"Yea, get on with it," Moby barked, sticking another potato chip into his mouth.  Somehow, he'd summoned the snack while on the bus, even though food was strictly forbidden.

"Right," Rahzel said.  "There are players of six on the court at a time, which is very convenient for us, because there are twelve of you all.  Two of these players have special names: setters.  They set the ball up so it can be spiked."

"Boooooring," Psymon drawled, stretching.

"Yea, this sucks Rahzzy," Zoe said with a frown, crossing her arms.  "I am _so_ getting you back for making me do this.  You'd better watch yourself."

"Not if I don't get him first," Luther growled, his pudginess looking even pudgier in his sulking state.  He glared at the volleyball resentfully, a scowl on his face.

"Anyway," Rahzel continued, though his voice was a fraction quieter, "there's one major rule to volleyball.  You can't let it touch the ground.  But you score if it touches the ground on the other team's side of the court.  However, if you hit the ball and it hits the ground anywhere other than the court, you automatically loose possession."  He paused and frowned.  "Does everyone understand?"

"Wait, I've got a better question," Elise said, turning to look at her fellow snowboarders.  "Does anyone _not_ know the rules of volleyball?"

There was an array of denials: "Yea."  "I know it."  "Of _course_ I know!  It's not rocket science."  Everyone's eyes eventually fell on Kaori, though, and the Japanese boarder suddenly became aware of it.  She laughed shyly, as if she were standing in front of her classmates and doing an oral presentation.

"Yes, I know," she assured with a confident nod.  Elise didn't waste another second on doubt and looked at Rahzel triumphantly.

"There.  We all know.  Now let us go and get this game over with."

Rahzel opened his mouth to deny, but a chorus of pleading followed Elise's demand so pitiful that Rahzel sighed.  "All right," he consented.  "All right, we'll skip it.  But if anyone breathes a word that I didn't go over the rules in full detail, then we'll be spending twice as much time going over the rules of the other events.  Is that clear?"

Everyone agreed.  Rahzel's serious expression melted into a smile.

"Good then!  Listen up.  There'll be a blue and a gold team."  Rahzel pulled what looked like a list from out of his back jeans pocket.  "Just to inform you, the players were randomly drawn.  There was no sort of strategy behind the teams, or anything."

He cleared his throat.  "On the gold team: Elise, Zoe, Psymon, Mac, Eddie, and Kaori.  The rest of you are on blue."

"Gold team rules!" Eddie shouted, earning a snicker from Elise.  Rahzel rolled his eyes, but a smile was on his lips.

"All right then.  Gold team, go to the boy's locker room.  You'll find your uniforms, as well as an extra pair of shoes there.  Blue team, your uniforms are in the girl's locker—"

"Uniforms?" Luther spat, looking outraged.  "You mean we all gots ta look alike, too?!"

"Afraid so, Luther," Rahzel dismissed quickly.  "All right then, everyone.  Get going, and be back out here in five minutes!"

Mac smiled at his luck, looking over at Kaori.  The look on her face was caught between excitement and nerves.  Mac grabbed her hand as they walked with the rest of the group, entering their assigned locker room.

"Let's show them that gold is better than blue!" he said, squeezing her hand gently.  She giggled and squeezed back.

"All right!"

~*~*~

Brodi picked up his uniform and a smile graced his lips.  Blue.  Brodi and blue.  Brodi, blue, and Buddha.  All three began with a B.  That must be a good sign.

"These pants look really tight," JP said grudgingly, holding his matching blue spandex shorts with disdain.

"Oh, suck it up and put it on, ya pansy git."

"Easy for you to say, Moby," JP snorted.  "You wear these tacky things all the time."

"I don't know about you guys, but I think mine might be a size too small," Luther mumbled to himself, stretching the fabric and holding them up to his waist.

There was a general round of laughter and then a pause, as if everyone were unsure of what to do next.  Brodi, along with most everyone else, noticed the discomfort in both members of the opposite sex.  The only one who seemed not to notice was Marisol, who, after examining her blue shirt and shrugging, started to take her t-shirt off.

"Good—golly—" Luther choked out, staring unabashedly.  JP started to blush at the lack of modesty of his ex-girlfriend, turning his head away.  Marisol stopped and looked around, confused.

"What?  It's not something you guys haven't seen before," she said, cautiously pulling her shirt off the whole way.  Brodi found it hard to tear his eyes away from her abundant cleavage, rude as he knew it was not to.  "Come on, kiddies," she chided, taking her blue shirt and replacing it with her old one.

Seeiah laughed and shook her head, following her best friend's brave action.  Moby shrugged and began to pull his pants off, and soon everyone was changing in front of everyone.  Marisol smirked, running a hand through her blonde hair and watching a shirtless JP from the corner of her eye.

A couple minutes later, everyone was dressed and ready to go, Marisol pulling her hair up into a ponytail.  Seeiah was telling the others that she had played volleyball all throughout high school and was her varsity team's star player.  Moby smiled.

"Lovely, then.  Maybe we've got more of a winner's chance at this than we thought, eh?"

"Of course we do!  Blue's _so_ much better than gold!" Marisol chirped.  "Just look at the people on our team!  Gold _so_ doesn't stand a chance!"

"I _am_ looking at the people on our team," JP mumbled to a disgruntled Luther who kept pulling wads of blue material out of his butt crack.  "That's what's worrying me."

"I hear you JP," his friend murmured back.

Once the gold team had finished dressing and trooped out, Rahzel proceeded to set them up.  This took more time than changing their clothes did.  He kept flitting back and forth, from camera to camera and corner to corner, just to make sure all the angles would be right and everyone would be seen clearly.  It was almost fifteen minutes later, and forty-one times after Moby complained of the hunger in his stomach, that Rahzel was finally satisfied.

"All right!" he said, jogging over to a nearby scoreboard and sitting himself down before it.  "Referees, are you ready?"

The three men in black and white stripes nodded.

"Cameramen, are you ready?"

"Of _course_ they are!" Elise droned.  "They've only been ready for the last five hundred hours or so."

Rahzel chose to ignore this, signaling for the cameras to start rolling.  In turn, he pulled a quarter out of his back pocket.  He flipped it up into the air and caught it in his palm, turning it over onto the back of his other hand.

"Mac, it's your call.  Heads or tails."

"Tails."

Rahzel lifted his concealing hand up.  "It is indeed tails," he announced, showing the camcorder nearest him.  "Gold team, you're serving first."

"All right!" Elise said, catching the volleyball a referee tossed to her.  She beat it on the ground several times and then looked up, holding it in her hands.  "Some Spanish-speaking tramp better be ready, because her makeup won't be nearly as pretty when this ball has smudged it all over her face!"  Marisol glared but kept quiet, sinking lower on her knees.  Elise smirked and turned to look at Rahzel.  "Hey Rahzzy, is it our point if the ball hits the opponent in the gut?"

Rahzel put his head in his hands, and then lifted his face to shoot Elise a begging look.  Elise shrugged and threw the ball up in the air—

SMACK!

The ball zoomed nothing short of a foot below the net.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Elise barked, looking incredulous.  And she wasn't the only one wearing this look; Zoe and Kaori were stunned, while Eddie almost fell over in surprise.  Those not on her team, however, were tickled at getting possession back so soon, and Marisol, for one, looked like a kid in a candy store.

Rahzel rubbed a hand dramatically down his face.  "No more cursing!  We want kids to be able to watch this too!" he shouted at the SSX Tricky volleyball players, turning to the cameraman nearest him.  "Make sure to edit that out, ok?" he said weakly.

Marisol crossed her arms, her shoulders swaying slightly in triumph.  "Well, well, well…" she said, an evil look crossing her face.  "What was that you were saying, Elise?"

"Shut up and rotate, Sparky!" Elise barked back, scowling and squatting down, preparing herself for Moby's serve.

The Englishman easily swatted the ball over the net, heading straight for the front row.  Kaori licked her lips, concentrating hard, preparing herself to return the serve.  Before she could, however, a voice screamed out from behind her and she jumped, the ball hitting her in her stomach.

Psymon cackled and pointed at his victim, but not a second later there was a unified scream of: "PSYMON!"

"What?" he said.  "Sheesh, it was a joke!  Calm down!"

"She's on your frickin' team!" Mac said.  "_Our_ frickin' team!"

"I am _not_ losing this game to _her_—" Elise said, pointing overzealously at Marisol "—because of _you_!  Straighten up and get serious, Sketchy!"

Psymon scowled.  "Big words coming from the Wacky-Serving Wonder."

The heat was getting to Elise again.  She looked just about ready to burst, and no one present could blame her—spare Psymon, of course.  But before she lost control over her shaking fists, Eddie trotted over and put a hand soothingly on her arm, Zoe doing likewise to Psymon.

"Come on, buddy, pull it together," she whispered, smiling at him.  "Let's win this thing like a team, ok?"

Psymon snorted, but there was resolution in his eyes none-the-less.  As everyone went back to his or her spots to prepare themselves for the next serve, Kaori looked at Psymon and stuck out her tongue.  After catching Zoe's eye, however, he pretended not to notice.

Moby beat the ball on the ground once, then threw it into the air and smacked it over.  "I got it!" Eddie called, returning the ball over the net with an overenthusiastic bump.  It soared over all six heads of the other team and landed out-of-bounds.

"Brilliant," Zoe muttered, putting her face in her hands while Rahzel added another point to the blue team's score.  "Just brilliant."

"Don't seem too cocky now, do you?" Marisol chirped.

Elise promptly turned around and slapped her golden-spandex behind.  "Kiss it," she snapped.

The referee returned the ball to Moby, and the Englishman threw it into the air for another serve.  It seemed his extra muscles hindered him this time, however, for the ball went over the front and back rows, out-of-bounds.

"Nice try, nice try," Seeiah said, giving Moby a small clap.  He didn't seem to care how well or poorly he was doing, however, for he was too busy rubbing his empty, growling stomach.  The gold team rotated, and, following Elise, it was Eddie's turn to serve.

"Oh baby!" Eddie said, catching the volleyball and slapping it on the ground several times.  "This is going over the moon!"  He threw it into the air and swatted at it hard with his fist.

The ball soared with a sharp whizzing sound, flying over the front row and into the back, heading straight for Luther.  The Southern redneck couldn't have cared less, however.  The ball landed at his unmoving feet and bounced away.

"Luther!" his whole team shouted.  Even JP seemed upset with him.

"What?" he replied lazily, crossing his arms.  "I didn't see it.  Oops.  My bad."

"It was right in front of your fat face!  How could you miss it?" Seeiah snapped, setting her hands on her hips.  Luther looked at her and glared.

"Well miss 'Volleyball VIP,' maybe you'd like to take my spot, hm?  Your ass is large enough to cover both positions.  Hell, I don't even WANT to play this stupid game."

Luther's name was shouted again, but this time by an angry Rahzel.  The disc jockey's frown was evident even from his place over at the scoring table.

"What did I say about cursing, Luther?  And put more enthusiasm in the game!  Just being here doesn't count as participating; I'll still drop you from the league if you do nothing more than stand there!"

Luther looked outraged, but JP managed to catch his eye before he said anything.  The Frenchman shrugged imploringly.  "Just play, Luther," he said.  "It won't kill you."

The Southerner went to mumbling curses under his breath and pulled another large wad of blue fabric from out of his crack.

Eddie served again, still to the same target.  This time Luther hit the ball, though, bouncing it foreword to Marisol, who delicately set it over.  Kaori and Mac worked together and accomplished a bump, set, and a spike, but Seeiah rushed foreword before the whizzing ball could slam against the ground.  Instead, she slid on her knees and bumped the ball before it hit the floor, the white orb sailing over to Marisol.  The Latino blonde barely had time to express her congratulations to her friend, however, for the ball was moving faster than she'd expected.  She backed up and hit it over.  The ball fell between Kaori and Psymon, both of whom thought the other was getting the ball.

"Yes, well done!" Rahzel said, his voice booming.  "Nice work, Seeiah, very nice!"

Marisol bounded over for a mild celebration with her best friend, patting her back and giggling with joy.  Psymon was furious, however, and turned on Kaori.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU GET THAT?" he shouted.

Kaori was indignant.  "What do you mean, '_why_'?  _You_ were the one who was supposed to get it!  It was closer to you!"

"Was not, you little twerp, and you know it!"

The riled-up Japanese girl turned around and rapidly muttered things in her native language, Psymon scowling all the while.  The rest of their team, however, didn't seem to be nearly as upset with Psymon and Kaori, and set themselves up to receive the ball.  The blue team rotated, Seeiah serving next.

"You guys better watch out!" Marisol called, turning around and winking at Seeiah.  "This girl knows how to play some volleyball!"

"We thought Elise knew how to play some volleyball too, didn't we?" Psymon said.  "But look how she turned out.  I doubt Seeiah's much better."

Elise didn't have time to choke the brash maniac, for the next second, Seeiah had thrown the ball up twice as high as normal, going into a jump serve.  Her hand came crashing up to pound the sphere, her feet off the ground, and the ball soared straight to Zoe.  The punk boarder met it without fail, however, and returned the ball over the net.  It sailed past Brodi, who did nothing to stop it, thinking it would be out-of-bounds.  The referees said otherwise.

"Hot damn!" Zoe shouted with glee, jumping into the air.  While she was giving Elise a high-five, Rahzel sighed and began massaging his temples.

"Note to self," he muttered, "remember to pay the censor overtime for this."

It was Mac's turn to serve, and the teenager accepted the ball with nervous hands, having never played volleyball before.  Mac swallowed, threw it into the air and met the ball with his fist, but it ricocheted off at an odd angle and went far left instead of foreword, almost nipping Eddie's orange afro off his head.  The bounces of the ball echoed about the silent gym, only to be interrupted by Moby's snickers.

"Well that was brilliant," he called over to the sulking teen.  "Bet you practiced for hours on that one, didn't you, mate?  Just like you planned it, huh?"

Mac told Moby to do something so vile that Rahzel stood up in outrage, knocking his chair on its back.  Those closest to him—namely, the cameraman—could see that the manager's nostrils were flaring.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT LANGUAGE?" he screamed across the court.  "How many TIMES do I have to repeat myself?  _No foul cursing!_"

"Tell it to someone who cares!" Mac hollered back, furious with himself and with Moby, who was now sniggering heartily.

"You'll be caring when I tell you that you're no longer riding with the league!" Rahzel quipped back dangerously, pointing at Mac with such a disciplinary finger that it reminded Mac of his mother.  "Do you hear me?  And that goes for all of you!"  Rahzel looked around at everyone, making sure to pause at the ones that were known for saying the wildest things.  "You all hear me?"

"Yes Rahzel," the group droned back.  Their manager nodded and snorted, sitting back down.  He situated himself and turned to the cameraman, looking almost desperate.

"_Please_ make sure to edit that out," he whispered imploringly.  "I sounded like an eighty-three-year-old woman."

The cameraman swallowed and gave a quick nod.

Marisol gratefully accepted the ball as the referee handed it to her, winking slyly at him.  She then proceeded to make a big show of beating the ball against the ground, glancing up every once in a while to shoot glares at Elise and confident smiles to Seeiah.  Her best friend smiled back, giving her the victory sign.

Marisol grinned even wider and finally threw the ball into the air, her hand crashing down upon it when gravity brought it back to Earth.

It sailed lower than Elise's serve had.

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" the Canadian bombshell laughed, her voice exploding through the silence.  She collapsed on the ground melodramatically, gales of laughter still protruding from her mouth.  Marisol scowled and put her hands on her wide hips.

"It's not funny!" she barked, glaring at Elise.  But the Canadian girl carried on for so long that Marisol stormed up to the net, grabbing it and glaring through the holes at her rival.  "What exactly do you have up your ass that's tickling you so much?!"

"And what exactly did you have up _yours_ that made you serve like that?" Elise choked out, rolling onto her back and kicking her feet up in the air.  Rahzel started frowning.

"Ok, Elise, it was all right for the first ten minutes," he snapped, staring at her pointedly.  "Let's get up and get this game over with."

"Yea, mate, I wanna eat!" Moby agreed from his position on the court.  "Hurry it up, would ya?"

"Oh keep your pants on, Moby, or Zoe might get excited," Elise snapped back, though she became somber and stood up, rotating with the rest of her team.  Zoe snickered and winked at a blushing Moby.  Rahzel opened his mouth and hesitated, as if wondering whether he should have that edited out or not.  He closed his mouth, however, and merely shook his head.  No use bothering their censor with more work than was necessary.

Kaori accepted the ball that was handed to her, while JP looked at Rahzel.  "What's ze score?" he shouted.

"Two to one, your team's winning."

"Don't mess up," Psymon drawled from the position in front of her, staring at Kaori as she beat the ball on the ground.  She looked up and glared at him.

"Leave me alone."

"What?" he innocently replied, his voice soft.  "I was just giving you my… vote of confidence."

Kaori rolled her attractive Asian eyes and served the ball over the net.  The gold team scored three more points with her serving, due to a miscalculated bounce on Luther's part, a weak set by JP, and an overzealous bump by Moby, respectively.  Kaori was getting ready for her fourth serve, and the blue team was really starting to get serious, when she waited too long to hit the ball and accidentally sent the orb flying into the back of Psymon's head.

Psymon stumbled foreword a step and turned around, staring at her incredulously.  There were several moments of tense silence.

Kaori swallowed hard.

"Um… sorry."

"Sorry?!  What the hell was that?!  _Sorry?!_" Psymon barked.  He cracked his knuckles and took several steps foreword.  "You little pest!  You meant to do that!"

"PSYMON!" Kaori screamed as he proceeded to chase her around the gymnasium, the pair weaving in and out of people, camcorders, and microphones.  "PSYMON, STOP!"

"Psymon Stark, stop that immediately!" Rahzel shouted, standing up out of his seat.  "Stop and get back to your position!"  For all the good that did, Rahzel could have been shouting at Moby's stomach to stop growling.

"COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SQUIRT!" Psymon hollered, almost knocking Eddie over when he tried to get around him.  Kaori sprinted behind the tall form of Brodi and stopped, clutching the back of his blue shirt.  Psymon attempted to bypass Brodi like he had done everyone else, but Brodi lifted up his arm.  The maniacal pursuer just barely stopped himself in time from being clothes-lined.

"Hold on there, cowboy," Brodi said, grabbing Psymon's shoulders and holding him steady.  Psymon lifted his blue eyes to glare up at Brodi, only to find that there was no aloofness present in Brodi's expression.  The Buddhist was totally solemn.  "Let's calm down a bit now, shall we?"

"Let go of me Brodi, before I kick your ass from here to Kingdom Come," Psymon whispered, so quiet that the microphones couldn't pick up on what he was saying.

"Personally, I don't believe in Kingdom Come," Brodi answered, a trace of the seriousness leaving his face.  "So an empty threat there, buddy.  But listen to me Psymon!" Brodi added, interrupting the boarder, for Psymon had opened his mouth to dish out a better threat.  "Calm down and listen to me.  Kaori didn't mean to hit you, everyone here knows that, and you're really over-reacting."

"Yea," Kaori added from behind the safety of Brodi, but her tall friend motioned for her to be quiet.  He didn't think this was the best time for her to be commenting—not with Psymon's clenched jaw about to crack his molars and all.

"Now go back, you two, and let's finish this game," he said, staring at Psymon.  "Plus, I think Zoe's starting to miss you, Sketchy."

Psymon snorted in a very like-I-care way, shaking himself free of Brodi's strong hands.  He slouched off and made his way back to his side of the court.  Kaori slowly came out from behind Brodi.

"Thank you," she said, her smile beaming up at him.  He smiled back down.

"No problem, dear lady."

Kaori pranced back into her position, the referee handing Brodi the volleyball to serve when he was sure everything was back to normal.  Rahzel, who had been standing on pins and needles the entire time, now slumped back in his chair, convinced that this whole game was a lot more trouble than it was worth.

And things didn't pick up from there.  Brodi, it turned out, was the best server of them all.  He scored five times in a row, seeming to know exactly the most strategic spot to place the ball, which was unfortunately between Zoe and Elise.  Psymon got raving mad after the fifth serve, and started ranting horribly to the pair, shouting curses that even Rahzel didn't know.  Eddie cut him short, however, and started chewing Psymon out for blaming the two girls.  They were still going at it when Brodi served again.  Once more, it landed between Zoe and Elise, who had run into each other in an attempt to save the ball.

"That's IT!" Elise shouted, shoving Zoe backward.  "WATCH YOURSELF, GIRL!  THAT WAS _MY BALL!_  YOU STAY ON YOUR SIDE!"

"WHO ARE YOU TELLING TO WATCH THEMSELF!?" Zoe screamed back, her temper boiling over.  "I _KNOW_ YOU'RE NOT TALKING TO ME, BITCH!"

Rahzel's chiding wasn't heard over the screams as Zoe and Elise went into an all-out brawl.  The two firecrackers kicked, scratched, pulled each other's hair in such a free-for-all that nobody wanted to try to stop them, not even Moby.  The referee finally just signaled for Brodi to serve again, Elise and Zoe still caught up in their catfight.

And for the seventh time, Brodi scored, putting the score to Blue: Nine, Gold: Four.  Marisol started laughing with glee.

"Why are we even bothering?" she asked to no one in particular, snickering as she watched Zoe kick Elise's arm.  "There's _no_ competition whatsoever!  Just look at them!"

It was at about that moment that Elise found an opponent more interesting than Zoe.  The Canadian bombshell stood up, screaming a battle cry like an Amazon woman, and flung herself right at Marisol's gut, knocking them both over.  Blonde hair flew in all directions as the two engaged themselves in a fistfight.

"Stop rolling!" Rahzel shouted to the cameramen, standing up out of his seat and rushing over to pull the two apart.  "Stop rolling, please!"  The cameramen seemed to think this form of entertainment was much more amusing than a volleyball game, however, and did nothing of the sort.

Even with the combined efforts of Rahzel, Seeiah, Eddie and Brodi, Elise and Marisol couldn't be torn apart from each other.  Their fighting quickly got increasingly violent, so much so that Zoe had to put an arm on Psymon's shoulder to keep him from joining in on the fun.  Marisol grabbed Elise's hand and bit her as hard as she could, just before Elise screamed and thrust her forehead at her opponent's.  Their heads collided with a sickening crack, and both fell to the ground, limp and unconscious.

No one said anything for several seconds.

"Oh shit," Rahzel whispered, swallowing.  Mac looked at him.

"No cursing, Rahzzy."

"Marisol!" Seeiah shouted, rushing foreword and picking up her best friend.  "Oh my—Is she dead?!"

"Calm down, Seeiah!  She's not!" Rahzel shouted, his face turning sallow.  He over-reactive answer sounded more like it was directed to himself as he surveyed Elise's still form.  "Somebody call an ambulance!  They've probably just knocked each other out!"

"Now _this_ is entertainment!" Luther said with glee as Kaori rushed past him to find a phone.  Seeiah shot him an extremely ugly look before turning around to continue slapping Marisol's face, hoping to wake her up.  "Somebody get me some popcorn!"

"Serrer Luther," JP whispered, staring at Marisol, his perfect jaw strangely rigid.  Luther didn't know a whole lot of French, having only been around JP for less than a year, but he did know when JP was telling him to be quiet.

Mac, who was biting his nails, suddenly looked up from Elise's face.  "Um, I think I'm gonna find Kaori.  Ya know, just in case she starts going off in Japanese and the operator can't understand her…"  He jogged after the young teen.

Eddie suddenly arrived back on the scene, everyone else not having noticed that he had disappeared.  He carried a dripping wet paper towel in his hand, and he flung himself on the floor next to Elise, wiping her face with it.  It took several strokes from the towel, but the corner of Elise's mouth started twitching.  She opened her mouth slightly and groaned.

Rahzel looked delighted.

"Brilliant Eddie!  Great job!  Now do Marisol…"

While Eddie was busy performing the same treatment to the Latino blonde, Luther suddenly spoke up.  "So does this mean that our match is canceled?"

If Rahzel weren't so worried, he would have turned around and given Luther a fat lip.  But the circumstances being what they were, he could only wave his hand and say absentmindedly, "Um… yes, yes, we'll stop the match there.  Blue team wins."

Luther started raising the roof.  "Go blue," he mumbled to himself.

"And does this mean I can go get myself a pizza?" Moby asked, watching as Marisol began weakly stirring on the ground.  Rahzel didn't answer, so Moby shrugged and wrapped an arm around Zoe's shoulders.  "Come on, love, I'm in the mood for Italian.  Sound all right to you?"

Zoe's eyes lingered on the pair of blonde divas till she made absolutely sure both were coming back to consciousness.  "Um… yea, that sounds… that sounds nice.  Psymon, want to come?"

Moby kept his groan to himself, glaring as the pointy-object-happy maniac shuffled over to them, grinning broadly at Zoe.  He couldn't decide what was worse: Psymon, his hunger, or the cameramen that refused to stop filming.  He knew this crazy stunt would appear on TV later… And he just knew his mother was bound to record it and show it to all her sewing circle friends.

Translations:

Serrer—Shut up

Author's Notes:

So what did you guys think about the volleyball game?  Interesting start, huh?  Tell me if the action went smoothly or not…  I'm perfecting my "action-dictating" technique, lol.  And also let me know if you think the characters were "in-character" enough.  I think I got pretty much everyone down, except perhaps JP and Marisol… They both seemed a tad too fond of each other, but what do I know…

~**P**udgoose


	3. A little R&R? Not likely!

**Disclaimer**:  Don't own SSX Tricky.

We Are NOT Sports People 

Chapter Three

"Mockingbird…" Brodi mumbled, picking up another french-fry to eat, hesitating at his lips.  He kept his eyes closed, his ears almost twitching as they strained to hear all the birdcalls around him over Eddie's chomping mouth.  "Wren… Chickadee… Swallow…"

"Brodi, if you don't shut up—" Elise threatened through gritted teeth, her hand holding a bag of ice wrapped in a cloth to her head.  Brodi opened his eyes and looked at her.  She was glaring at him.

"So sorry," he apologized genuinely, sticking the french-fry in his mouth.  He chewed it and swallowed.  "I didn't know I'd be bothering you."

"Are you sure you don't want part of my Big Mac?" Eddie interrupted, waving his half-eaten sandwich in the air in front of Elise.  She gave him a you-must-be-kidding-me look.

"I already told you, I'm not hungry."  She paused, and her nose delicately wrinkled in disdain.  "Besides, you've got onions on your burger.  I hate onions."

"I can take the onions off…"

"I said NO, Eddie!  I'm not hungry!"

Eddie shrugged, biting off a large amount of greasy—yet strangely delicious—fast food.  "Wha'ever f'oats yur boat," he said through a mouthful.

Brodi laughed quietly, then looked down into the cardboard cup holding his McDonald's french-fries.  He fished out a particularly soft-looking fry and ate it, licking the salt off his fingers.  He preferred the soft ones.

It was almost an hour after Elise's and Marisol's "inevitable bitch-slapping," as Elise fondly dubbed it.  The trio was now sitting outside on a cafeteria bench in the shade of a large, red-and-white-striped umbrella, watching the camera crew exit and enter the gym every now and then, loading and unloading their cargo.  It seemed the next SSX Tricky mini-olympics game would take place outside, and even after an hour of work, the television staff were still hauling cameras and microphones.

"I really hope we're not doing soccer," Eddie suddenly whispered.  Elise and Brodi looked at him while Eddie sipped his fountain drink meekly through a straw.

"Why?" Elise asked, shifting her ice pack.  Eddie glanced at her and Brodi darkly.

"Brings back bad memories of the ol' school days…"

Brodi watched Eddie shift uncomfortably under his and Elise's gaze.  He ate another french-fry.  "A heavy snowfall disappears into the sea without a trace."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie asked, looking up.  Brodi picked up another french-fry and polished it off, shrugging.

"I'm not too sure.  But it's one of my favorite Zen sayings… you know, cause it has to do with both snow and the ocean…"  Eddie turned to look back at his Big Mac, though he didn't take a bite.  "Sorry bro, it just seemed to fit the moment."

"S'ok," Eddie murmured, opening his mouth and raising the burger to his lips.  He hesitated, changed his mind, and took a drink through his straw instead.

Elise shifted the patch on her forehead, which had become irritatingly cold.  It certainly wasn't doing a thing to reduce the splitting headache she had had since she'd regained consciousness, but hopefully it would reduce the swelling.  She almost shuddered at the thought: Elise Riggs, the beauty of the SSX Tricky Tour Group, being filmed on TV with a huge, red lump the size of her fist on her forehead.  The only thought that brought some comfort to her situation was the assurance that Marisol had the same, if not an even bigger bump, on her face.

A small bird suddenly landed on Brodi's table.  Eddie, Elise and he became very still, watching as the bird hopped nervously from side to side, studying Brodi and his french-fries jealously with one beady, black eye.  Brodi slowly stuck his hand in his cardboard cup.

"Blue jay," he whispered, gently tossing a fry towards the normally feisty bird.  It hopped backwards a little bit, and then nervously pecked at the large piece of food, trying to pick it up in its beak.

"HOO-HA!" someone behind Brodi screamed, and the bird took flight, twittering angrily.  Brodi jumped and accidentally dropped his cup to the ground, turning around to see who had the nerve to do something like that.

It was Luther flanked by JP.  Brodi glared at him, while Elise and Eddie frowned sourly.  "Just what are _you_ doing here?"

Luther's laugh sounded uncannily like the bray of a donkey.  "Only wish I had ma' shotgun with me.  I woulda taken aim at that thing and BAM!"  Luther lifted his hands in front of him and closed one eye, as if he were holding an invisible gun.  "Filled it full a' lead, right then and there!"

"As fascinating as your talk of death is," the Buddhist spat, "would you please leave?  Just the mere sight of you is getting my inner self off-center."

"What are you guys doing here anyway?" Eddie asked, glaring at JP and his crony.  JP took off his expensive sunglasses, polished them on his expensive t-shirt, and then set them atop his head amongst his hair, shining with expensive hair gel.

"Sorry if we are disturbing your meal," JP said absentmindedly, looking at Elise.  "Just wanted to see if the lovely lady was all right.  You took quite a hit back there in the gym."

Elise lifted a carefully plucked eyebrow.  "Um, no.  I _gave_ the hit, remember?  I didn't _take_ anything.  I just happened to be using my own forehead as a weapon, was all."  JP laughed and bowed at the hips.

"My apologies," he said suavely, his blue eyes twinkling.  "Of course, yes, I should have remembered.  I saw it clearly, after all."

Eddie rolled his eyes.  "Beat it, JP."

Luther swelled with indignation, as if the command had been directed to himself.  "Who you tellin' ta' leave, ya' keyboard-typing geek?"

Brodi crossed his arms.  "Now, now, children, no name-calling," he said coolly, gazing up at Luther from his seat.  "Let's have a fair fight, okay?"  JP raised a hand at Luther before the redneck could say anything else.

"Diplomacy, Luther," JP chided airily, but his eyes, which were focused on Brodi, were glittering strangely.  There was a tense silence for a while; everyone was too busy glaring at everyone else to say anything.  Elise finally spoke up.

"Hey, do you guys know what sport event is next?"  JP looked at her and she shifted the icepack on her forehead.  "We've been watching the camera crew for the past hour.  They're moving the equipment outside to somewhere behind the gym."

"I don't know, but I certainly hope it is football," JP said softly, a smile gracing his lips as he gazed unseeingly at the gym, almost as if he could see a playing field beyond it.  Luther hooted and hollered in agreement.

"Oh yea, baby, football!  I'll _so_ be sacking the back!  Yea, that's what I'm talkin' about!"

JP looked at him and frowned.  "What?"

"Sacking the back!  Knocking the quarterback down, you know!  Defense!  Hoo-ha!  Manly stuff!"

JP's brows continued to be furrowed, however, as he tried to understand what Luther was talking about.  Eddie started snickering.

"He was talking about soccer, Luther, not American football."

"Oh…"

"Stupid."

"What'd you call me, geek!?"

"Poop head," Eddie quickly covered.  He then frowned upon second though.  "Wait a sec—that's an insult too…"

"What's up, gang?" Rahzel's voice happily interrupted.  Everyone turned to watch him approach them in a much better mood than before, springs seemingly attached to the balls of his feet.  The fact that Elise and Marisol had survived their smack down obviously was a big plus to him, and certainly a big relief.  "Feeling any better, Elise?"

She shrugged, removing the icepack from her face.  The area was flushed red from the cold.  "No, not really.  I already told you, Rahzel, I wanted an aspirin to go along with the icepack.  I have this horrible headache."

"Sorry Angel.  But remember, you _were_ the one that cracked yours and Marisol's heads together."

"She was biting me!  What was I supposed to do!?"

"Bite her back?  I dunno," Rahzel answered with a shrug.  He then waved it away.  "But never mind then.  I'll get you an aspirin ASAP.  Has everyone eaten lunch?"

There was a simultaneous nod of everyone's head, but afterwards Brodi turned to gaze sullenly at the fries that had fallen on the ground, looking up to glare at Luther out of the corners of his eyes.  "Good then.  Just wanted to let you guys know the next sporting event will take place on the soccer field.  I want everyone down there in about twenty minutes."

Eddie's face paled so much that his freckles looked like sprinkles mixed in vanilla ice-cream.  "Oh no," he whispered, lowering his gaze to his half-eaten burger.

JP grinned.  "Ha ha!  Very good!  I can't wait to play football again!"  He made a kick with his foot, as if hitting an invisible soccer ball.  "I played the position of striker for five years at St. Constance's Private Academy, you know.  Best offensive player St. Constance's saw in thirty years."

"Football?" Rahzel repeated.  "No, no, JP, we're not playing soccer.  We're just _playing_ on the soccer field."

JP looked downtrodden, and his glistening hair gel didn't seem to have nearly as much glitter to it as usual.  Eddie, however, looked so happy he could faint.

"So what _are_ we playing, then?" Elise asked.  Rahzel started chuckling.

"Can't tell you that.  Not until everyone's through eating and arrives on the field."  He shared a mischievous smile with everyone.  "I want it to be a surprise."

"That can't mean no good…" Luther mumbled, crossing his arms and scowling.  Everyone personally agreed, but upon looking at Rahzel's determined expression, they knew it would be of no use to say so.

"Does anyone know where the others are?" he asked.  Elise quirked an eyebrow, raising the icepack back to her bump.

"Um… how should we know?" she snapped, fanning herself with her hand.  "They're probably eating in some restaurant… in a cool building with _air conditioning_…"  She turned and scowled at Eddie.  "I swear, where do you get off wanting to eat outside in this weather?"

"Well, does anyone know Mac's cell phone number?" Rahzel continued.  Brodi nodded and took a pen out of his back pocket, scribbling the number down on a spare napkin.  "Thanks Brodi.  He's probably with Kaori… I'll give them a buzz."

"Don't mention it," Brodi dismissed with a smile, handing the disc jockey the napkin.

"And so that leaves… Marisol and Seeiah, and Psymon, Zoe, and Moby.  Marisol's still in the girl's locker room—"

"Probably trying to fix that bump," Elise muttered happily to Eddie.

"—and Seeiah's in there with her.  So… does anyone know where those last three trouble-makers are?"

"Wouldn't be talking 'bout us, would ya?" an English voice suddenly said.  Everyone turned around to see the said three walking towards them.  "What's up, Rahzel?" Moby continued, crossing his arms and looking in a much better mood than before.  Italian must have set well with him.

Rahzel smiled a toothy grin.  "Good!  Just wondering where you three were… The next game's going to take place on the soccer field in a little more than a quarter of an hour.  I want you three to be down there at that time, so don't wander off somewhere."

"Shit," Psymon said, wrapping an arm around Zoe's shoulders.  "Guess that cancels our romp in the auditorium, huh baby?"

Zoe snickered, Moby glaring at Psymon from behind his back.

"Well," Rahzel said, clapping his hands together.  "Guess I'll go give Mac a ring on his cell phone.  See you guys in a bit."

As there was hardly anything to do—and hardly any time to do it in—the group of boarders simply relaxed underneath the shade of the striped umbrellas.  Elise dropped her icepack beside her, the pack now containing more water than ice anyway.  Brodi picked his empty cardboard cup up off the ground, set it on his table, and made sport out of trying to throw the dirty fries back in it.  The boarders watched him do that for several minutes, Marisol and Seeiah finally emerging from the gym to join the group.  Marisol looked very bitter, and she and Elise were constantly glaring at each other.  Both girls seemed to have reduced the appearance of their bruises so much that they were hardly noticeable.

Time passed, as time usually does, till it was five minutes until the next event.  The boarders were starting to get restless.  One could tell, because Brodi was now trying to throw three fries in his cup at once, Elise was fanning herself with more force, and Psymon had seized Elise's icepack, ripped it open, and dumped the water on Moby's head.  Moby was still chasing Psymon up a tree when Rahzel came back out to greet them, looking slightly worried.

"Mac and Kaori still aren't here?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.  "Where could they be…"

"Maybe they're having a make out session," Marisol suggested, studying her forehead in Seeiah's compact mirror.  Zoe nodded in agreement.

"Yea, I wouldn't be surprised.  They probably don't know what time it is…  Time really flies by when you're sucking face, after all…"

"Did you ever reach him?" Eddie asked.  Rahzel nodded.

"Yes, as soon as I left you all, I called him.  He said he would be here in a bit."

"I hope he hasn't gotten in a wreck," Seeiah suddenly mumbled, biting her bottom lip.  Luther looked at her and grunted while Rahzel's face paled a shade.

"Way to be oligopolistic," Luther growled.

JP looked at him.  "It's _optimistic_, Luther.  I'm French, and I even know that."

Luther blinked.  "Right… Then what'd I say?"

"I have no clue."

Rahzel checked his Rolex watch.  "Ohhh… this is ridiculous."  He looked up at the group.  "You all head down to the field.  It's time now already.  I'll wait for Mac and Kaori."

Zoe stood up and looped her arm around Moby's, steering him away from the tree, for which Psymon was eternally grateful.  He attempted to slide back down, missed a chunk of bark he was reaching for, and landed promptly on his bottom.

"Don't break your tush, Sketchy," Marisol chirped, walking past him, Seeiah by her side.  "It'd be a real shame.  You've got a very fine one, after all.  Almost as nice as mine…"

Psymon growled, standing back up and walking with them.

"How the heck would you know?"

Marisol grinned wryly at him.  "On the rare occasion that you _do_ pass me in a race, I get a full view of it, Sketchy."  Psymon frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment Marisol reached back and pinched his rear, winking at him.  The Canadian stood, stunned, for a moment or two, before he grinned wolfishly and followed her.

The grass was short and smooth out on the soccer field as ten of the twelve SSX racers stepped onto it, resembling a military buzz cut.  The sun was at its toughest point of the day, high and bright in the sky, forcing almost all of the television crew under baseball caps and makeshift tents.  The racers stood in confusion, no one recognizing the scene before them.  Three separate nets had been set up all along the soccer field, approximately twenty feet apart from each other.  Large white rectangles had been drawn around them, and lines in between each of these, making them looking uncannily like—

"_Tennis_," Zoe spat, looking incredulous.  "You can't be serious… Rahzel can't be serious!  We can't play in the grass!  This is—is—ridiculous!"

"Not _another_ pansy sport!" Luther groaned, sticking his face in his hands.

"Afraid so," said one of the nearby cameramen, looking incredibly bored with the whole situation.  The boarders turned to him; he was carrying a set of twelve rackets over to them.  "Here… distribute these.  Each of you gets one."

"Ah, 'ell no," Moby groaned, taking a brightly colored racket and passing the others over.  "Look at this!  This thing hardly weight more than lil' Mac!"  He frowned and threw the racket high over his head; indeed, it soared incredibly high, lasting up in the air for a good six seconds.  After it hit the ground Moby grudgingly picked it back up, plucking off the spare bits of mud and grass it had collected.

"The pout on your face could rival a baby's," Brodi said, taking a racket, his eyes twinkling.  Moby looked at him sharply.

"You calling me a babe, eh?"

"Certainly not.  I was only saying that you have mastered the pout look far better than anyone I know."

Zoe grinned.  "Of course.  Moby knows what looks are sexy these days."  She elbowed the Englishman, who was laughing nervously.  "He's fashion-conscious."

Moby's face soured.  "This wouldn't have anything to do with my _sports gear_ pictures, would it?"

"'Course not!" she said, winking at him.

The same cameraman that had given them their rackets was heading back over to them.  "All right.  We're about ready for you all to start playing.  Are you guys ready?  Where's Rahzel?"

"RIGHT HERE!" the disc jockey suddenly shouted, hurrying across the field, Mac and Kaori running behind him.  "RIGHT HERE!  RIGHT HERE!  WE'RE HERE!"

Marisol was snickering when Kaori and Mac finally joined the group.  She passed them their rackets.  "Now what was making you two late, hmmm?"

"Traffic jam," Mac panted.  "Lunch hour.  You know the deal."

"Uh-huh," Marisol said, looking very disbelieving.  She winked at Kaori.  "Then why do you look so flustered in the face, dear?"

"I am?" she asked breathlessly.  "Well, we've just run down here all the way from the parking lot—"

"A likely story," Marisol interrupted, grinning wryly at them both.  Mac caught on to what Marisol was implying faster than Kaori did, and he blushed, looking down at the ground.  He mumbled something inaudible, suddenly fascinated with his racket.

"Sorry, didn't catch that.  What?"

"We _just_ ate lunch," Mac said a little louder, glancing up at Marisol to glare warningly.  "That's all."  Marisol chuckled and turned back around to face Rahzel, who had just finished talking to the television crew and now looked ready to discuss their sport.

"Good to see we're all _finally_ here!" he said, holding his hands, panting slightly, and smiling at everyone.  "Now, as you've probably guessed, the next sport you'll be playing is—"

"Tennis, we know, we know," Elise said, glaring at her racket.  "I think everyone knows the rules.  Just one quick question, though, if a score is zero in tennis, isn't it referred to as 'love'?"

Rahzel blinked.  "Uh… well, yes it is.  But Elise, we're not playing tennis."  Everyone looked up to stare at him incredulously.  Rahzel began to laugh.  "No!  No, of course not!  Not now, anyway.  You'd be playing on a real court if I had you all playing tennis."

"Spit it out then, mate, what are we playing?" Moby barked.

"_Badminton_, of course!"

Author's Notes:  Thank you guys for the reviews last chapter (all four of you, lol)!  I personally agree with you guys; an anime version of this WOULD be hilarious.  And **Nissi Nirvani**, thank you for your help.  I tried to work on Marisol a bit… but please let me know what you think of the characterization of everyone.  (And that goes for you ALL, not just Nissi.  Lol…)

~**P**udgoose


	4. Hitting a Birdie: Part One

**Disclaimer**:  I don't own SSX Tricky or its characters.  (Though I wish I owned Zoe, Psymon, Moby, Mac, Kaori, Marisol… heck, gimme the whole crowd!)

We Are NOT Sports People

Chapter Four

There was silence.

…A very long, _long_ silence.

"Eh?" Moby said, brows furrowed.  Rahzel's smile faded, looking from one confused face to the next.

"Well don't… don't _any_ of you know how to play Badminton?"

There was a shaking of everyone's head as curious face looked at curious face, shoulders shrugging.  Then from the back, still panting slightly, Kaori raised her hand.  Rahzel blinked.

"I know," Kaori said slowly, and everyone looked at her.  "Otousan and I play it sometimes.  It is one of our favorite games."

Rahzel laughed incredulously, looking around.  "All right then… I suppose I'll have to explain it to you all.  Kaori—er—you can take a breather if you want.  Get yourself a drink of water or relax or something."

Kaori looked around, smiling nervously.  "No, that is quite all right, Rahzel.  I shall listen too."

The disc jockey smiled.  "All right then.  Where to begin… Well, first things first, Badminton is a game played with a shuttlecock—or birdie, as some call it—and with rackets.  Like tennis, it can be played with a partner on your team, and that is how you all will be playing, just to simplify numbers.  The first to fifteen points wins."  He paused and looked around.  "Like volleyball, you can't let the shuttlecock touch the ground.  If it does, the other team gets a point.  However, if your team serves, the shuttlecock is returned, and it lands on your side, you lose possession.  Clear?"

Everyone blinked.  Rahzel blinked back.  "We're not going to be real strict with the rules and serving and whatnot.  We won't be changing sides or anything, either.  Remember, this is just for high school kids, so don't get real tense and expect to play it like you guys were in the Olympics or anything."

Mac put his face in his hands.  "Oh maaaan," he groaned.  "The guys back home are _so_ going to make fun of me for this…"

Luther looked equally disgusted.  "An' here I was, a'thinkin' we'd reached an all-time low with volleyball…"

Rahzel clasped his hands together desperately.  "Oh come on you guys!  Life's an attitude!  If you guys look at this in a positive way, it'll be lots of fun!  I promise!"

"Cut it out with the life lessons, Rahzel," JP snorted, crossing his arms and his pretty face looking much less pretty in his irritation.  "You're starting to sound like Brodi with his Zen crap."

Brodi's face faulted, and his aloof expression became darker.  He looked at JP, smiling sickly sweet.  "You know," he said slowly, "it couldn't hurt for you to listen to some of my sayings.  Might teach you a thing or two about _vanity_ and _patience_ and _respeeeect_."

JP smirked.  "Did you say something?  Couldn't understand it amongst all that Zenny business."

Brodi's eye began to twitch and his lips became so tight that Eddie scooted a step over, eyeing his friend with a wary look.  Luther put his hand on JP's shoulder, staring at Brodi warningly, but Rahzel quickly interrupted before a fight broke out.  "Ah, yes, well, if you all would just turn around and give me your full attention."  He waited till everyone had consented and Brodi's eye stopped twitching before he continued.  "Right, first off, does anyone have any questions?"

Moby raised his hand.  Rahzel looked at him.  "Yes?"

"Uh, yea mate, how do ya hit the shuttle—" And suddenly overcome with a hacking cough, he concluded— "the shuttle_cock_?"

Zoe burst into a fit of uncontrollable snickers, burying her face in Moby's shoulder.  Moby tried not to look too pleased with himself, fighting to keep his face serious.  Rahzel rolled his eyes.

"Some cough there, huh Moby?" he spat sarcastically.  Moby coughed lightly again.

"Yea mate, don't know what the 'ell's my problem.  Must be this ruddy summer weather…"

Mac scoffed, crossing his arms.  "Man, how much older are you than me?" he asked, and Moby turned to glare at him.  "Sheesh, even _I'm_ not that immature."

"Blow it out your ear," Moby spat back.  Rahzel scowled.

"Now boys, stop it before I have to call your mommies."  Mac and Moby exchanged menacing looks but said nothing.  "Moby actually had a good question there.  When you hit the birdie, you'll hit the cork, or the rubbery part, with your racket under-handed or over-handed.  When serving, however, make sure it's under-handed.  All right?"  There was a general murmur of okay.  "Any more questions?"

There were none.  Rahzel smiled.  "Ok then, the teams.  Once again, you guys have been randomly drawn.  No real strategy here or anything.  On team one will be JP and Brodi."

Silence.  JP suddenly started sputtering.  "You—you must be kidding me!  _Him?!_  On a team with _moi?!_  This is preposterous!  He's more of a clown than the goofy-looking guy over there!"  He hiked his thumb back at Eddie, who swelled up with indignation.  Seeiah and Marisol, however, started snickering delightedly.  It wasn't every day you heard an angry Frenchman pronounce the word "goofy".

Rahzel shook his head.  "No JP, these teams are for real.  Now just calm down and let me finish."  JP took his sunglasses off, staring at Rahzel as if he couldn't believe the disc-jockey wasn't going to say something like, "Just kidding!" or "April Fools!".  "On team two will be Moby and Marisol—"

"Just as long as it's not Elise," Marisol sighed happily.

"—Seeiah and Mac will be team three.  Kaori and Elise will be team four.  Luther and Zoe will be on team five—"

"NOOOOO!" Zoe suddenly interrupted, looking desperate.  "_NO_!  You paired me up with the FAT GUY?!  WHAT IS _WRONG _WITH YOU?!"

Luther grunted.  "You gots a problem with that, missy?"

Zoe glared at him.  "No _offense_, but I just don't want to play with JP's overweight guard dog."  She turned to Rahzel, ignoring Luther, whose eyes looked like they might pop out of his head they were bulging so fiercely.  "Come on Rahzzy, _please_.  _Please_ change the teams for me!"

"For once, I agree with her," JP was quick to add.  "Change the teams!  Put me with Luther!  She can take the Buddhist!"

Rahzel frowned sternly, giving them a look that told them it was no use, no matter what they said.  "Sorry guys," he said firmly, "but there's nothing doing.  You're stuck with the person I pair you up with, and that's that."

Zoe turned to lean dramatically on Moby's shoulder.  "You and Marisol are going to _slaughter_ us!  _Anyone_ and _everyone_ is going to slaughter us!  We don't have a chance!  Why _me_?"

Eddie, who had been quiet all this time, suddenly looked up.  "So that means… Team six…"

"Is you and Psymon," Rahzel filled in.

Eddie groaned and looked at the maniac, who was smiling ecstatically.  "Oh, bucker up, little buddy!" Psymon howled, wrapping an arm painfully around Eddie's neck.  "You know, we gotta get you a nickname!  As for me, you can call me crazy, but I prefer insane!  How about Fro for you?  No, better yet, Fuzz!"

The teen angrily tore Psymon's arm off him.  "How about Wachowski," he said dryly.  Psymon shrugged and gave Eddie a tight bear hug.

"Whatever floats your tinky-tonkey boat!"

Rahzel grinned and clasped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention back onto himself.  "You guys ready?  Good!  Because team one and two, you're on court one; teams three and four are on court two, and teams five and six, scurry off to the last court!  Let's get these games rolling!"

~*~*~

The referee blew his whistle much too soon for JP's taste.  He wasn't even through calling Rahzel every disgusting French curse he could recall, or done moping angrily about how unfair life was.  So it was understandable that he was caught completely off guard when Moby served, aiming directly at him.  Brodi called his name, but it was far too late—

PLOINK!

The birdie hit JP straight in the eye.

"DIABLE?!" JP suddenly screamed loudly, his voice echoing across the soccer field.  Two badminton courts down, Luther's porky head shot up in worry.  Rahzel sprinted towards him from across the field accompanied by two medics, just as JP was sinking to his knees and babbling on in hysterical, rapid French.

Though JP was Brodi's only enemy, he couldn't help but feel a little concerned, staring ceaselessly at his Badminton partner.  The Frenchman was covering his assailed eye with both hands, his words switching from French to English occasionally, but it was so spontaneous he wasn't making any sense in either language.  Rahzel crouched down next to him.

"JP!" he said, looking very, very much like a worried mother.  The cameraman set to film Court One zoomed in on JP's hands.  "Jean-Paul, what's wrong?  What happened?"

"Come on JP," Moby shouted from the other end of the court.  "What the 'ell's the matter with ya, ya weak little bit, eh?  It's only a little birdie, mate.  Wasn't even going that fast."

"_MOBY_!" Rahzel suddenly screamed, turning around and looking livid, like his firstborn babe had been accused of ugliness.  "Mr. Moby Ramsey Jones, this is NOT going to be a repeat of the volleyball tournament—"

Little did he know.

"—so would you PLEASE shut your mouth for ONCE in your lifetime?!  I don't need your opinionated commentary at the moment!"

"Yea…" Moby mumbled under his breath as the DJ turned back around, "and you certainly don't need any more coffee, either, mate…"

"JP!" Rahzel pleaded, trying to pry the soft French hands off JP's face.  "JP, please, look at me!  Please take your hands away and look!  I need to see if it's that bad!"

"I'M BLIND!" JP suddenly screamed in English, his words coated with melodrama.  He took his hands away, but just as quickly he threw an arm dramatically over his face, blocking Rahzel from seeing any damage.

Rahzel paled.  "Now—now JP, calm down, you may just be—over-reacting—" He swallowed and continued in a small voice.  "There's just no possible way that you could be blind, now, think about it…"

"But I _aaaaaam_!" JP wailed, and then switched to French babble, which no one, not even Luther, could understand.  Rahzel wiped the sweat off his forehead, looked around helplessly, then turned back to JP.

"I'm going to remove your arm, JP.  Now—now please don't fight me!  This is for your own good!"

Deftly, Rahzel gripped JP's arm and tore it away, holding it down.  He grabbed JP's other hand and held it tightly to his side to keep the Frenchman from shielding his eyes again.  Brodi was almost leaning over Rahzel now to get a good look, wondering if his French partner was really out of it.  The cameraman adjusted his zoom—

JP's eyes fluttered open—

And they were fine.  The assaulted eye wasn't bloodshot—wasn't even watering in the slightest.  Rahzel's scowl was unconditional, and he was squeezing JP's hands tighter than anyone normally would.  The Frenchman laughed nervously.

"'Vell 'vhat do you know?" JP said, his accent getting to him in his unnerved state.  He smiled an anxiously twinkling, toothy smile.  "It's… it's a miracle!  I can see!"

"Perfectly well," Rahzel growled.

"Yes—yes, perfectly 'vell…  Ouch, Rahzel, 'vhat's 'vith ze death grip?  You are cutting off ze circulation in my 'vrists."

Brodi rested his head in his hands and groaned.  "Buddha, give me strength."

~*~*~

The games resumed play not five minutes later, and two courts down, Psymon and Eddie were murdering Team 6.  Just as Zoe had predicted, Luther wasn't a very ambitious team player; she was beginning to wonder just how he'd ever managed to make it anywhere in football, he was such an anti-team person.  Eddie served the ball for the third time, and Luther was receiving once again.  With a great deal of self-control, Zoe just managed to keep herself from flinging her racket in front of Luther and saving the birdie.  However, as he was the one receiving the serve, that move was illegal, so she was simply forced to watch the shuttlecock zoom inevitably to Luther's feet—not that the Southerner did anything to prevent it.

Zoe's short fingernails dug into her racket.  That made the score what?  Six to nothing, Psymon and Eddie's favor?  She checked the scoreboard and assured her fears.  Anger welled up inside her, and she turned around to yell at Luther, even though five previous experiences told her it'd do nothing more than make him grunt.

"YOU LAZY, FAT, STUPID, SMELLY, SIMPLE-MINDED—" She began, spitting every colorful adjective that came to her mind.  Luther merely glanced at her, bent down, and picked up the birdie.  He tossed it to Zoe, startling her into catching it.

"Shut yer trap and throw that over the net for 'um, woman."

Zoe's face turned so red that her facial tattoos disappeared.  Letting out a passionate scream of frustration, hitting tones that only Zoe Payne could hit, she threw said birdie blindly into the air.  By sheer coincidence, it happened to go over the net.  Psymon caught it.  It was his serve next.

"Prepare for the assault, my stout little Marine!" Psymon called to her, moving back to the appropriate serving length.  Zoe didn't bother to even find humor in that, stomping over to the spot Luther was slumping out of.  She made a violent gesture with her racket that caused him to speed up for two steps, then return to his previous amble.  The punk boarder groaned and turned back to Psymon, glaring at him and gripping her racket like it was a baseball bat and she were preparing for a homerun.

"ServIIIIIIICE!" Psymon screamed, batting the cork of the birdie and watching it sail over to his target.  Zoe beat it back with exceptional grace for someone so angry.  It twirled dangerously in the air towards Eddie, who bopped it in Luther's direction.  And as expected, Luther did nothing more than watch it fly to his feet.

"ARRRRRRRRG!" Zoe cried, lifting her hands to her hair and tugging.  "_THIS IS SO_—ow…—_THIS IS **SO** NOT FAIR!  I can't play under these conditions!_"  She glanced in Rahzel's general direction.  "_Why_ isn't he doing something about this?!  He made Luther move in the volleyball game!"

The reason for Rahzel's lack in upholding the rules was easily evident, though Zoe hated to admit it.  He was more than forty feet away, still hovering over Team 1 and 2's match; he seemed to think there was more supervision needed around JP and Brodi than anywhere else.  And the referee judging Team 5 and 6's match was a bald, feeble old man that looked absolutely terrified of Luther's overbearing presence, so he was of no help at all.  Zoe threw her racket on the ground in a childish temper tantrum.

Eddie smirked, watching another point being added to his side.  He caught the birdie thrown to him, turning to Luther.  He laughed derisively.  "Wow, this is great!  I'd always pictured you to be a much—erm—_faster_ competitor than you've turned out to be.  But I suppose the illusion of you on a snowboard was all it was.  I mean, you're as large as a house, and houses don't go anywhere anytime soon!"

That was all it took.  Luther's head snapped in Eddie's direction so fast that his four chins wobbled.  Eddie's eyes widened at the look Luther was giving him.

Psymon started laughing, patting his Badminton partner's back fondly.  "Wow Wachowski, you're in sweet monkey crap now!"

~*~*~

Seeiah put her free hand to her hip, raising a carefully plucked eyebrow irritably.  She sighed, watching the birdie soar back and forth for the 400th time over the net, so far not having had to hit it more than once—and that was only because she had served once.

"Wow Mac!" Kaori panted, jumping up and hitting the birdie over handed in an attempt to spike it like a volleyball.  "You are very, very good!  But watch out!  I will get you!"

Mac dived in for a save just in time, quickly hopping back up to his feet.  He tried not to smile.  Despite the fact that it was still a very "un-cool, wimpy and girlish game," he found himself having fun; but perhaps everyone has fun doing something they're good at, and Mac was excelling with flying colors.  He wiped the sweat off his brow, watching Kaori back up a few feet so that she might hit the birdie back to his side.

Elise looked up at Seeiah.  She had long since given up standing and was currently lying sprawled out on the buzz-cut grass.  "Yo!" she shouted, and the black snowboarder looked her way.  "You wouldn't happen to have any suntan lotion over on your side of the court, would ya?"

"Afraid not," Seeiah said shortly, though she couldn't help but silently agree with Elise.  She twirled the racket idly in her hands, watching it with lazy eyes.  Apart from serving, there really was no need for her on the team.  Kaori was doing very well by herself.  Why couldn't she do something useful while they played their game, like go shopping or read magazines?

Cheering mixed with a loud cry of, "NOOOOOO" suddenly brought her to her senses.  She looked up and saw Mac beating the ground and Kaori doing what looked like a half-hearted victory dance.  She was obviously too tired to do a full-spirited one.

"Point for us!" Kaori panted to Seeiah, giving her the thumbs-up sign.  Seeiah smiled.

"Cool."

"Oh no," Elise said unenthusiastically, rolling over on her stomach and folding her arms under her face.  "Our poor team.  So what's the score now?"

Mac looked at her and frowned, wiping the sweat off his upper lip.  "Two to one.  They're winning."

Seeiah took the birdie offered her, backing up to the service line.  She bit her tongue and beat its bottom; it sailed gracefully over the net, only to be returned by Mac.

Well, that was two hits now.

After watching for a few seconds, Seeiah sighed and decided to take a leaf out of Elise's book for once.  She sat down on the ground and curled up, fully prepared to take a short nap out in the baking sunshine.

~*~*~

Marisol and Moby, it turned out, made a great team together.  They seemed to read each other's thoughts involuntarily; when one would hit the birdie and back up to wait for the return, the other would rush to the front to cover for them.  Their strengths made for a good combination as well.  Where Marisol was fast and bendable, able to dive and make saves that looked almost impossible, Moby was strong and aggressive, jumping and spiking the shuttlecock on more than one occasion.

In short: Brodi and JP were getting their pretty little hindquarters kicked.

JP grunted as he dived to the ground, trying to save the birdie, but it was no use.  Brodi shook his head good-naturedly and put his hands on his hips, breathing heavily.  He turned to look at Marisol, who was trying to teach Moby a victory dance she'd just made up.

"No no no," she said, laughing.  "Put your hands in the air and move your hips like this—no, smoother than that.  You look like you're going through convulsions."

Moby stopped his pitiful attempt, snorted, and crossed his arms.  "Ah, forget it.  Blokes don't move their hips, mate.  Looks queer.  We ain't got anything to shake, anyway."

Marisol rolled her eyes and giggled, looking at Brodi.  He picked up the shuttlecock and tossed it to her.

"Nice one," he said, winking.  "Real nice save last time.  Lots of grace in those feet of yours."

"Well they should be, they're only size seven, sometimes seven and a half depending on the width of the shoe," she answered absentmindedly, lifting her foot up and glancing at it.  "But it's small, unlike _some_ of the gargantuan ladies present…"

Brodi wondered whether he should laugh or not.  Elise was, after all, his best friend's girl.  Thinking up something quick, he grinned and said, "Yea, my foot size is twelve, I think."  He picked up one of his feet and shook it.  "But I always wear half a size more because I like foot space, you know?  Don't want to feel cramped."

Marisol smirked, putting her fists on her hips, still gripping the birdie in her right hand.  "Big feet huh?" she grinned, winking at him.  "Not that we're bragging over there or anything."

"Bragging about what?"

"Oh, I think you know what I mean…"

It took Brodi several moments to figure out just what the heck she was talking about, but when he did, a very bright blush crept along his cheeks.  She winked at him and giggled heartily while Brodi stumbled over his words and flushed even more, not looking nearly like the calm, reserved, confident Buddhist everyone was used to seeing.  Seconds later, he felt something very hard collide with the back of his head.

He winced and stumbled foreword, turning around to see French eyes glaring at him, alight with anger.  JP lifted his hand as if to hit him again, but Brodi hurriedly grabbed his hands with both of his own.  "Whoooooa!" the Buddhist said, scowling.  "What the heck was that for?!"

From out of the corner of his eye, JP saw Rahzel take a few warning steps foreword, but he hardly gave him a second thought.  "For flirting with my ex-girlfriend, that's what!"

One of Brodi's eyebrows quirked up so fiercely that it looked like half his forehead was melting.  "What are you talking about, dude?  Calm down and listen to what you're saying!  Like you said, she's your _ex_!  It's not like I was seducing your wife or anything!"

"Yes, but still—"

"But still what?" Marisol chirped from across the court, having taken several steps foreword and listening intently.  JP looked at her and closed his mouth, chewing on his tongue.  After a few seconds of staring, he wrenched himself out of Brodi's grip and stomped away, crossing his arms angrily, his back to everyone.  Brodi rolled his eyes, but Marisol giggled.

"Such a baby.  Always pouting," she mumbled.

"Everything all right?" Rahzel asked dangerously, as if trying to hint to JP and Brodi not to get into a fight.  JP snorted so loudly that Brodi heard it.  The Buddhist turned and looked at Rahzel, nodding.

"Yes, we're quite fine, and thank you for your concern.  We were just having a little—"

A sharp scream interrupted him.  Everyone on Court One—including the cameraman—turned to try and see two courts down, trying to see the source of the cry for help.  The scream reached such a level now that it was starting to sound hysterical.  Brodi opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Rahzel had already taken off in a full sprint in that direction.

Moby lifted his head and scratched his cornrows.  "Mates," he said, turning to his partner and opponents, "correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that Wachowski?"

~*~*~

"SQUEAL, PIGGY, _SQUEAL_!"

And Eddie squealed.  As it turned out, Luther was _much_ faster than Eddie had predicted; it seemed his speed in football hadn't quite abandoned him completely.  Eddie screamed in a manner commonly found in terrified five-year-old girls as he weaved back and forth under the Badminton net and through people, trying to get as much space between himself and Luther as was physically possible.  But the Southerner wasn't giving up without a fight.

"AS LARGE AS A _HOUSE_, AM I?!  WELL YOU JUST WAIT TILL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!  YOU'LL BE SMALLER THAN MY PINKY FINGER!"

Rahzel arrived on the scene not two seconds later, slowing to a stop.  He hardly had time to register what he was seeing before Eddie frantically barreled in his direction and then tried to climb on top of him as if he were some sort of tree.

"Eddie—what's—what's going on—_GEROFF ME!_"

Eddie slid back down to the ground, but he scuttled behind the disc jockey and crouched like he were playing hide-and-go-seek.  Rahzel looked at him, baffled for a second, before he turned around and realized just what Eddie was hiding from.

Two hundred and eighty merciless pounds were training straight for them.

"SWEET MERCY MAYHEM!" Rahzel shouted, covering and bracing himself.  He could hear those giant footsteps—could feel the ground shaking underneath him—Rahzel waited for the blow with bated breath—

But it never came.

The DJ slowly lowered his hands to see that Luther had managed to skid to a stop, only inches away from him, looking utterly perplexed, as if he'd never seen Rahzel under sunlight before.  He blinked stupidly several times.

"What'd you just say, chumpy?" Luther growled out, though it wasn't an aggressive tone at all.  Rahzel swallowed, but his mouth was dry.

"Um… I don't know."  And he honestly didn't.  His tongue just spat out the words that first came to mind.  "What—what did I say?"

"I've found my lover!" Psymon squealed with glee, running towards Rahzel with open arms.  "Oh lover, where have you been all my life?"

The DJ paled and jumped out of the way just in time, sending Psymon crashing over the crouched Eddie.  Badminton Team 6 struggled to disengage their limbs and swapped curses while Rahzel turned to Luther, looking faint.  "Um… what?"

"Ya said, and I'll quote ya, 'sweet mercy mayhem.'"  He nodded towards the psychotic Psymon, who was now making kissing noises.  "Ya've asked for that one, bud."

Rahzel paled and looked frantically around.  "No!  No, someone help!"  He turned around once more and spotted Zoe, who was standing several yards away, numbly watching everything before her.  "ZOE!  Be a good girl and help a guy out, would ya?  Calm Psymon down, please!  He listens to you!"

"LOOOOOOVER!"

"And please tell him that I'm not his lover!" Rahzel practically sobbed, wringing his hands.  He knew it looked pathetic of him, but the mental image of Psymon sending him roses and a teddy bear for Valentine's Day was more than he could stand.  Zoe nodded and trotted over to her crazy friend, who was just now standing up and fighting to give the DJ a hug.

Rahzel tried to calm himself down.  He took several deep breaths and looked from one face to the next, realizing everyone was watching him.  He swallowed, summoning his best airy, commanding attitude.

"Um… yes, well, Luther—" He turned to the bulky SSX Tricky boarder "—back to business.  What you did just now to Eddie was totally uncalled for."

"But he was callin' me names!" Luther defended immediately, a childish look spanning across his face.  "He was sayin' I was fat and slow!"

"I can't imagine why," Rahzel said dryly.  He continued before Luther could sense the underlying sarcasm.  "But that's still crossing the line, and you know it.  I'm afraid I'm going to have to suspend you and Zoe.  You'll forfeit this match, and you won't participate in any more of the Badminton tournament.  I'm sorry."

The look that crossed Luther's face clearly told Rahzel that "sorry" wasn't required at all; anyone who wasn't any wiser could have sworn that Christmas was coming early, Luther looked so gleeful.  Zoe, however, happened to overhear, and turned around abruptly, letting Psymon go.

"Do WHAT?!" she barked, her mouth agape.  Rahzel glanced worriedly for a second at Psymon, but the maniac seemed to have calmed down considerably; at least now he wasn't drooling and staring hungrily at the DJ.  "What do you mean we won't participate?  Just because Luther and Eddie were playing tag?!"

Rahzel nodded solemnly.  "I'm afraid so.  His manner is inexcusable, and you certainly can't be a one-man—er—one-_woman_ team, so you'll both have to sit this out."

Zoe looked too stunned for words.  Luther, however, was getting his groove on, shaking his stuff as he danced off the field.  Rahzel crossed his arms, as if to further emphasize his point.  Zoe didn't move, though; she didn't even blink.  She could have very well been petrified.

"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Psymon cheered, doing his own version of a "victory dance."  "Oh baby!  Who's the man, eh?!  Game one goes to Team 5!"

In a spurt of random hyper-ness—or random Psymon-ness—he stooped over, picked Zoe up and threw her over his shoulder.  Screaming like an Indian tribesman that had captured a fresh kill, he kicked up his heels and trotted off the soccer field after Luther, Zoe bouncing lifelessly on his shoulder.  Rahzel scratched his head, muttering to himself about what Psymon probably ate for lunch.

It wasn't until a soft groan sounded behind him that he realized Eddie was still there.  He turned and offered his hand, which the teen gratefully took, pulling himself to his feet.  Eddie looked a little shaky, and his face resembled vanilla ice cream with sprinkles once more.

"Mommy," he said softly, hunching over and trudging slowly off the field.  Rahzel watched him go and finally let out a breath of exhaustion.  He put his face in his hands, shook his head for a second or two, then looked up and over to the other two courts.

Everyone was still watching him.

"Resume your games!" he shouted, cupping his mouth as he did so.  "The tournament's not canceled or anything!  Your games are still on!"

Everyone nodded and went back to doing what they had before, and Rahzel sighed again.  He glanced down at his feet and saw an innocent shuttlecock mixed in the grass, lying motionless.  Rahzel groaned.  He suddenly knew that making them continue on really wasn't something wise to do.  He could feel it.

…Or perhaps that was just his indigestion…

Translations:

Otousan—Father

Moi—Me

Diable—What the Hell

Author's Notes:

First, I'd like to thank you guys for the reviews you gave me, especially the character-smart ones.  Trust me, I really, really want your advice as to how to portray the characters.  It's a bad habit of mine to illustrate them as _I_ personally see them, not necessarily as they are…  But thanks for the Psymon, Marisol, and even Seeiah comments.  They're all well appreciated.  I also learned a LOT about Badminton.  Believe you me, I was reading up on the rules of that sucker and everything.  Lol, better to know the material you're talking about than be shooting in the dark!

For all of you who wanted Psymon to be crazier than he was, I really hope you like this chapter better.  I tried to bring out the… well… _crazier_ side of him, not just the terribly masculine, attractive part…

And as for Seeiah having a minor part, I'm sorry.  I tried to include her more in this chapter.  She's just my least favorite character, and as such she tends to get smaller roles…  **Sigh**  Yes, if I had things my way, everything would revolve around Zoe and Psymon…

And **ace of swords**, I think I just might make Lacrosse their next game!  Not that I know too much about it… I'll have to be brushing up on that sport too, so I apologize if it takes me longer to post…  Oh, and **Realitysplitter**, I tried to shorten up the length in between paragraphs, but there's only so much I can do.  Hope this chapter was better on your eyes!

Laaaast but not least, if any of you guys want to see more of a character, just tell me, and I'll work on it!  Oh, and please let me know what you think about characterization!  ^_^  Love you all!!!

(And just for a side-note, the Badminton teams WERE randomly drawn by me, unlike the volleyball teams.  I figured I should try something different this time…  XP)

~**P**udgoose


	5. Hitting a Birdie: Part Two

**Disclaimer**:  Do I need to say it?

We Are NOT Sports People 

Chapter Five

Zoe watched the other two Badminton games moodily from behind a bottle of Budweiser.  The weather was getting sticky as well as hot, and the wind was beginning to blow promisingly, though no one paid it any mind.  Team 1 and 2 finished up not long after she had been carried off the field on Psymon's back, and she glared sullenly at her British friend as he came to sit next to her on the benches alongside the field.

"Guess what, mate?  We won!" Moby said smugly, crossing his arms in a very proud manner.  "Good thing, too.  That should show that Frenchie where his place is!"

Zoe, who had been mimicking Moby's words silently with a very childish expression the entire time, took another swig from her bottle.  Moby glanced at her.

"You okay, love?"

"You okay, love?" Zoe mocked, trying to feign a British accent and only succeeding in sounding like she was from California.  Moby's brows furrowed.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing!" Zoe denied melodramatically, waving her hands in front of her.  Moby wasn't moved.

"Now what the 'ell did I do to you?" he persisted.  Zoe glared at him.

"Okay, I'll tell you what!" she said, the hand holding her bottle pointing at him and almost splashing Moby with alcohol.  "You're an inconsiderate… inconsiderate… Um… inconsiderate person, that's what!"  She gave a small hiccup and then added as an afterthought, "And I don't like that new nipple ring you got!"

Moby blinked.  "But love, I've had me nipple pierced for two years now."

"And I still don't like it!" Zoe shouted at him, taking another long swig from her bottle.  Moby rolled his eyes, reached over, and grabbed the bottle, yanking it out of her drunken grip.

"Where'd ya get this?"

"None of your business!"

"Zoe, mate, how many of these things 'ave you 'ad?"

"As much as I need," she slurred, trying to take the Budweiser back.  Moby snorted and tipped the bottle up to his own mouth, downing the rest.  Zoe looked like she might just burst into tears.

"You're so mean!" she shouted, drawing the attention of Eddie and Brodi nearby, who had been discussing how reckless maniacs like Psymon could beat you to a pulp without really meaning to.  "Why are you always so frickin' mean to me?"

"When 'ave I _ever_ been mean to you?" he asked incredulously.  Zoe sniffed, hiccupped, then glared pointedly at the empty Budweiser in his hand.  Moby shoved it out of her sight quickly.

"Now I was only doin' that for your own good, and you know it!" he insisted.  Zoe crossed her arms and looked away.  "So is that the only time you can come up with?"

"No!" she shouted, rounding on him so suddenly that Moby jumped in his seat.  "I saw you!  Over there with Marisol, having a good old time, weren't you?  Winning the game without caring what kind of effect it might have on me… And then beating JP and rubbing it in his face with _her_!  With _her!_  I thought _I_ was your Humiliate-JP partner!"

Moby stared at her behind his thick sunglasses.  "Eh, love, I don't see where you're coming from… Marisol and I won the game because we were paired up and because we were good together.  And I know you can't deny the fact that she has a thing for beating JP, mate.  She was just as cruel to him as you would have been, don't worry—"

"SO YOU'VE REPLACED ME?" Zoe shrieked, looking horrified at him.  This increase in volume caught the attention of everyone on the benches that hadn't already been watching their exchange.  JP began to laugh.  "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!  YOU'RE SO FREAKIN' CRUEL!"

Ignoring Moby's claims of denial, Zoe stood up and tried to stomp off.  She only succeeded in weaving drunkenly for a few paces before tripping over herself and falling down on her elbows and knees.  Several of the other spectators laughed.  Moby turned back to them and looked slightly pained.

"She's a mean little drunk sometimes, you know…  It's her feisty temper.  It can get to her…"

Marisol, who'd always considered Zoe a friend, seemed a little hurt and confused that Zoe was angry with her.  She, like Moby, couldn't seem to understand what had upset her so, or if it was just the beer talking.  Whichever it was, though, a certain Psymon Stark didn't care.  He got up from his seat on the benches, started making his way down, and then pretended to trip about halfway through, rolling down the rest of the way towards Zoe.  He looked up at her and grinned from his place on the ground when he reached her side, that maniacal glint ever-present in his feral blue eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a tone that was supposedly, for Psymon, concerned.

In response, Zoe retched, looking only seconds away from puking.  Psymon stared at her for a couple seconds.  He then scooted his head a little farter away from her face.

"Need a little help there, bonny beer breath?" he asked.  Zoe didn't respond, but Psymon took this for a yes, suddenly making grotesque vomiting sounds.  The others all 'ewww'd in unison, Moby afterwards demanding that Psymon stop before Zoe threw up.

Too late.

"Oh dear Buddha," Brodi whispered, paling a shade, closing his eyes, and putting his hands over his ears.  Eddie and Marisol did likewise.  JP looked thoroughly bewildered, as if shocked Zoe should do something so disgusting in his presence.  Moby watched his friend with concern but didn't move, eyeing the pile of sick warily.  Psymon covered his nose and scooted back, looking triumphant.  Luther, however, sighed.

"What a bunch of…"

With a hefty grunt, he stood up and made his way over to Zoe, rubbing her back in the gentlest way Luther's heavy hands could.  Shaking and sweaty from the exertion, Zoe finally crumpled backwards, panting lightly.

"Got it all out?" Luther asked gruffly.  She only nodded, staring numbly at anything other than her puke.  Luther looked up and took a deep breath.

"HEY," he bellowed, "WE NEED SOMEONE TO CLEAN THIS MESS UP OVER HERE, YA GOT IT?"

Looking back down he heaved Zoe up by her shoulders and then picked her up in his arms.  Turning to JP's and Moby's appalled faces, he said tersely, "Gonna take her up to the gym, 'cause it's much cooler up there.  Be back in a bit, JP."

Everyone watched him go with incredulous looks on their faces—everyone but Psymon, that is.  He merely stood up, brushed himself off, and then asked his tattoo if it had a pen and a piece of paper on it, so that he might write Rahzel a love letter.

Eddie looked at Brodi.  "You wouldn't happen to know a Zen saying that deals with maniacal gays and fat rednecks doing favors for people, would you?"

Brodi put his face in his hands.  "No Eddie.  Sadly, I don't believe Buddha ever came across anyone quite like some of the SSX crew."

~*~*~

Rahzel strolled to court number two, a fresh bottle of water in his hand and a very bored expression on his face.  He stopped and surveyed the game going on before him with tired eyes and yawned.  Generally any sport played with such passion excited him, even if it was something as calm as golf or bowling.  And just who could deny that these kids _weren't_ playing passionately?!

But this… this…

This was just downright _boring_.

Rahzel checked his watch.  This had to be the longest game ever in Badminton history.  Nearly an hour and a half had gone by, and still Mac and Kaori were going against each other, the score 14:13, Kaori and Elise's favor; or, he should say, Kaori's favor.  Elise didn't seem to be doing hardly anything.

Which was why no one said anything when she stood up from her tanning spot on the ground, stretched, and then promptly began walking off the soccer field with a long-legged strut.

Seeiah, however, was not amused.  Just as Elise had made it to her end of the court, she suddenly said, "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"To the gym's locker rooms to piss."

Seeiah scowled.  "Wait a sec, you can't just up and leave!  You've got to sit this thing out with me!  I'm not sitting through this torture alone!  It's not fair!"

Elise smirked and continued walking.  "Sorry sister, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

Seeiah turned around and let out a noise of frustration, raising a hand to run it agitatedly through her hair—only to remember that she was bald.  She groaned and sunk back to the ground, watching Kaori and Mac sullenly.

"Kaori I—I think I'm gonna—gonna WHOA!—oh yea, save!—I think I'm gonna turn in the—towel!"

"Not _now_ Mac-chan!  Just a little—eeck!—more!  You've made—it this far!  Come on!  You can do it!"

"But you—you _know_ you're gonna—whip my butt!"

Seeiah rolled her eyes.  How many times had Mac said that already?  And he was still keeping up…  Two more points and he would win the match for he and her.  She sighed, picking at the grass underneath her idly.  This was so boring…

The wind blew the grass underneath her fingers fiercely.  She looked up.

Increasingly darkening and thickening clouds had long-since hidden the sun.  Seeiah frowned.  Now, more than ever, it looked very much like it would rain.  She sighed.  If it started pouring and she was stuck outside because of this stupid, never-ending game… Well, she didn't know what she'd do.  Go ballistic would be the first thing.  After that… maybe she'd hog-tie Mac, declare a forfeit of the match, scream at Rahzel for putting her here in the first place, then go chew out Elise for not suffering the same wet fate.

Suddenly, Kaori pulled a ghost racket and the birdie fell down to the ground.  Mac didn't even have enough energy to cry for joy and rub it in her face, though Kaori summoned spunk enough to whimper pitifully amongst her panting.  She picked up the birdie and threw it at Mac; he just barely caught it.

"Point for us?" Seeiah asked, quirking an eyebrow.  Mac nodded, throwing the birdie weakly at her.  It landed a good two feet from her legs.

"Yea…" he breathed, moping the sweat off his face, "and it's your turn to serve."

Seeiah stood up, wiped herself off, and grabbed the birdie, staring at Mac warily.  "Are you sure you're not going to pass out?"

"Pass out?  Who?" Rahzel suddenly asked from the sideline, eyes wide.  Seeiah glanced at him and rolled her eyes.

"Sheesh, get a grip Rahzzy," she chided, stepping back to the service line.  She looked through the Badminton net at Kaori, who looked very flush in the face and almost as near collapse as Mac.  She frowned and gave the disc jockey an incredulous look; how could Rahzel look at these kids and _not_ guess that either one of them were about to faint?

Seeiah sighed and held the birdie up momentarily, serving it over the net.  Kaori somehow managed to hit it back—not to anyone's surprise.  Seeiah literally saw beads of sweat fly off Mac as he dove to retrieve it and hit it back—

But miraculously, he missed, falling flat on his face next to his racket.  The fastest point won in the game.

Everyone watching rubbed their eyes and pinched his or herself to make sure they weren't seeing things.  But no, even when Rahzel bit his lower lip extremely hard, Mac's fallen body didn't cease to be.  Kaori swelled up happily.

"Woohooooo," she said in a hoarse voice, doing her best to holler.  Seeiah watched her do a small motion with her left arm as if trying to imitate some sort of victory dance; two seconds later, the wind began to pick up and get chilly; and in even less time than that, Kaori fell flat on her face and remained still.

Rahzel blinked, looking from one passed out teenager to the other.  He scratched his head.

"Um… hey kids?"

Nothing.

"You guys?"

Still nothing.

Rahzel frowned.  "Well um… well… let's get these kids inside, people, hop to it!"

Just as everyone started to busy themselves to work, rain began to fall.  Rahzel stared blearily up at the ornery clouds, scowling.  He winced as a raindrop fell in his eye.  Seeiah snickered.

"Back to the gym everyone!" he called out, turning around to the side benches and repeating himself.  Two camera crewmembers heaved Kaori and Mac on their shoulders, and everyone began jogging back to shelter just as Elise was coming back out.  She blinked, smirked, then turned around and headed back inside.

"A natural trend-setter…" she mumbled to herself, polishing her fingernails on her shirt.

~*~*~

"Man, this _sucks_."

Marisol glanced from the pouting, bored-out-of-his-mind Eddie, to Elise, who was sitting only a couple feet away, and coughed.  "You wish…" she murmured.

Elise's ears almost twitched in a very cat-like way.  "What was that, Sparky?" she snapped.  Marisol only grinned politely and shook her head.

"Didn't _anyone_ bother to check the weather forecast for today?" an exasperated Rahzel asked, pacing the floor worriedly and glancing around at the camera crew and the SSX Tricky competitors, the latter of whom were sitting on the school's bleachers.  "I mean, didn't _anyone_?  Huh?  Anyone?"

"Speak now or forever hold your peace," Elise snapped loudly.

"I think that means _no_, Rahzel," Eddie added, picking the wet grass off his sneakers idly.  Rahzel scowled, glared, and continued to assist in moving camera equipment while muttering profanities under his breath.

It had been thirty minutes since the rain had first started to fall, and only just now the last of the camera and Badminton equipment was getting inside.  Rain was pounding in thick sheets against the side of the building, the wind howling threateningly.  Every now and then thunder would crackle and bellow, but only frequent enough to hint that the storm was passing parallel to the gym, not over it.  Which was good, because it turned out that Kaori—who had revived fifteen minutes after she passed out—was profoundly afraid of thunderstorms.

"_Kaaaaraaaaackle_! BABABABOOOOOOOM!" Psymon suddenly screamed behind her, cackling like crazy as Kaori squeaked and dove into Mac, who had come to only a few minutes before she had.  Mac blinked and patted her back awkwardly, torn between the instinct to tell Psymon off and the desire not to.  After all, he had a pretty Japanese girl in his arms now…

Kaori recovered quickly, however, and she had had plenty of practice chewing Psymon out.  Unfortunately, she was still pretty exhausted from her Badminton game, and her nerves were too wired from the storm to stay mad very long.  "Why you big—why you mean…"

"Why me what?!" Psymon chirped, leaning foreword eagerly, as if about to be told that Zoe loved him.

Kaori sighed and looked away, an eye twitching.  "Sore ga watashi no jinsei desu…"

Psymon quirked an eyebrow but left it alone, leaning back and sighing exasperatedly.  "She's just no fun these days!  What is WITH that?!  You know anything about her strange behavior, Tattoo-boy?"  A pause.  "You too?  Hmmm… Hey, maybe Fuzz knows.  Do you know anything about it, Fuzz?"

It took Eddie a couple repeats of "Fuzz" to remember that Psymon was addressing him.  He looked up from his shoes and glared, still not having gotten over Psymon beating him up—unintentionally, of course.  "What?" he spat softly.

Psymon suppressed a laugh.  "Why's Kaori acting like such a bump on a log?  Or a bump on a lump?  Or a bump on a stump?"

Eddie shrugged.  "How should I know?  Shut up and leave me alone."  He turned back to his shoes and continued his work moodily.  Psymon grabbed his gut and went into hysterical fits of laughter, his mind totally distracted from the subject of Kaori.

Moby scowled at Psymon and turned back to Zoe; his arm was wrapped around behind her, and her snoozing head was resting on his shoulder, a thin trail of drool sticking to his shirt.  Moby grimaced.  Having his girl sleeping on his shoulder was pleasantly romantic, of course, but he wished someone had at least given her a breath mint before she fell asleep.  He didn't even WANT to think about what it was that he smelled.  JP snickered.

"Ahhh, dear knight in shining armor… the fair lady isn't worth the trouble of saving now, is she?"

Moby glared at him.  "Shut it, Frenchie."  His glare became a gleeful smirk.  "Or do I need to show ya where your place is again, eh?"

JP crossed his arms and scowled.  "We both know that you only won because my girlfriend is an excellent Badminton player.  You just need a girl to fight your battles for you."  He nodded mockingly at the snoring Zoe.  "Hence the fact that you hang out with that hideous, face-tattooed creature."

Luther cleared his throat.  "Ex, JP."

"What?"

"_Ex_-girlfriend… Marisol's your ex, boss."

JP paled.  "I know that… what did I say?"

"You said plain ol' girlfriend, mate," Moby interrupted, smirking.  "And I beg the lady forgive me over there, should she hear—" He jerked his head back at Marisol "—but if I'm not mistaken, she was being a bit of a flirty miss with the Buddha-miester over there today.  Must not like ya too much.  Must not be too satisfied with ya, mate."

JP's pale face became as red as a cherry.  "She is _not_ my girlfriend!  That was just a slip of the tongue!  AND SHE WASN'T FLIRTING WITH BRODI!"

Silence; JP's should echoed throughout the gym.  The French beauty covered his mouth with a delicate hand, looking positively horrified with himself while Moby burst out laughing, making his gales pointedly loud.  Zoe snorted and murmured on Moby's shoulder.

Brodi sighed exasperatedly, hid his head between his knees, and held his arms over his sun-bleached hair, his face flushed.

Luther looked from JP to Moby and put one and one together—as he couldn't possibly put two and two together; that would be just too complicated.

"Want me to do something 'bout him, boss?  Want me to shut him up good?!"

But for once, JP was past having someone do the manual labor for him.  Forgetting all airs of formality and regality, the Frenchman stood up and began clambering down the bleachers to get to Moby.  The Englishman paled, stood up and took off in a sprint, leaving Zoe to fall sideways and wake up blearily.

"Huuuuuh?" she slurred, blinking and wincing from a severe headache.  "Wha…?  Whatsz… what's goin' on?  Whoa, turn off the bright heights—bright frights—bright… er…"

Poor Zoe was too out of it to realize _fully_ what was going on, but everyone else watched in amazement as the playboy Frenchman chased his black rival across the volleyball court and into the boys' locker room.  No one wanted to guess what happened afterwards; there was total silence; no sounds of a scuffle, but the pair certainly didn't emerge anytime soon.

Psymon bounded down the bleachers to take Moby's place, wrapping an arm ecstatically around Zoe.  "HOWDY-DOODE COWBOY!"

"Aaah…" Zoe protested weakly, making an attempt to cover her ears.  Psymon wouldn't hear of it, however, and grabbed her hands, singing West Side Story songs like a canary—or, rather, like a wounded parakeet that had been trapped in a miserable pet shop for ten stinkin' years.

"PSYMON!" everyone shouted.

"Whaaaaaat?!" the Canadian drawled innocently.  But met with ten solid glares—one particularly pained one coming from Zoe—Psymon actually quieted for once and crossed his arms, muttering darkly to his tattoos.

The gymnasium door opened and Rahzel entered, just as the storm bellowed a particularly fierce rumble of thunder.  Kaori cried out and dove even deeper into Mac's chest; the teen suddenly began praying that he'd put on enough deodorant and that Kaori liked his choice of cologne.

Rahzel stepped up and ran a hand through his soaking hair, picking daintily at his wet clothes.  Psymon squealed happily.

"Entering a wet t-shirt contest, lover?" the crazy Canadian asked, leaning forward.  Rahzel eyed him warily before Psymon jumped out of his seat (Zoe wobbling threateningly on the spot), pulling something out of his back pocket.  "I just remembered!  I wrote you a letter, my strawberry shortcake!"

Psymon bounded happily over to the DJ, handed him a folded piece of paper, and then trotted back, giggling like a schoolgirl in love.  Rahzel groaned softly and tossed the letter behind his back with a bitter look.  Psymon gasped.

"Lover, I—I thought we were—I thought—_how could you do this to me?!_"  Pretending to sob melodramatically, Psymon turned and picked up Zoe, throwing her over his shoulder again.  Zoe's face turned a familiar shade of green.  Several of the boarders started snickering.

"Sketchy, what—" Elise began.

"Well I've got someone here who _does_ care about me, and—and—AND I DON'T NEED YOUR STINKIN' LOVE ANYMORE!  Come on, hot stuff!"  And with that, the maniac took off across the gym, flung the girls' locker room door open, and rushed inside without another word.

Silence.

"Well," Rahzel said, clapping his dripping hands together.  "Er—now that that's over… there's something you guys should know."

"You're gay?" Mac whispered in mock seriousness.  Kaori started giggling, her face still hidden.  Rahzel scowled amongst plenty of snickers.

"_No_, Mac, it's—"

"Of course that's not it, Mac!" Marisol interrupted with a wink in Rahzel's direction.  "Rahzel wouldn't of had to tell us that!  We already knew all about it!  Rahzel came out of the closet a _long_ time ago."

"Would someone close her over-sized mouth for once," an exasperated Rahzel asked amongst Seeiah and Marisol's ferocious giggles, "so that I can finish what I'm trying to say?!"

Elise raised her hand.  Rahzel shot her a wry look.

"Not literally, Elise."

"Awww…" the diva sighed, looking crest-fallen.  Eddie snickered.

"But anyway you guys, I just wanted to let you know that we're going back to the buses tonight.  We're postponing the rest of the Badminton tournament.  The weather forecast says it's supposed to be sunny tomorrow, so hopefully that's when we'll be shooting the rest.  But go back to your bus and get a fresh change of clothes, take a shower, do whatever you like.  We'll be eating out in about two hours.  That's all the filming we'll be doing for today."

"Thank you Buddha," Brodi mumbled.

"So, well, that's it!  But—" Rahzel's smile faulted.  "Wait a sec—where're JP and Moby?"

Luther cleared his throat, grinning like the Cheshire cat.  "Boss's goin' after the pansy Brit!  He's givin' 'em the what for!  The one two!  They're dukin' it out!"

Rahzel paled, looking around at the other boarders.  The solemn look on their faces was all the confirmation he needed.  He swallowed.  "Where are they?"

"Boys' locker room!" Luther sang, cackling happily.  The DJ sighed and put his face in his wet hands.

"All right then… Three of you come with me to help split those two up.  And… um… Seeiah, would you go and inform Psymon and Zoe about the arrangements for tonight?"

The African-American snowboarder laughed harshly.  "You kidding me?  I'm not going in there!  That's worse than going after JP and Moby!"  She shuddered.  "Who _knows_ what kind of things they might be doing!"

Rahzel gave her a dry look.  "Then take Marisol with you if you so desperately need emotional support.  All right, Eddie—Brodi—Luther—come with me."

Elise watched as everyone filed out around her, leaving her alone with Mac and Kaori, the two of which were pulling from each other slowly, blushing uncomfortably.  Elise groaned and rolled her eyes, standing up.  She'd leave those two lovebirds alone.  Right now, she had a date with a hot shower.

She stepped outside into the pouring rain and squeaked, the clouds becoming as increasingly dark as night.  She shivered.  Cold—cold—cold—

This temperature was _so_ wrong.  And this was even coming from a Canadian chick.

Translations:

Sore ga watashi no jinsei desu—That is the story of my life

Author's Notes:

I want to apologize if this chapter was rough, but I had a hard time plowing through it myself.  I'm trying to get the Badminton games over and done with, but I don't want to, like, rush through it, you know?  If there were too much action in one spot it'd be boring.  Or… boring to _me_ at least, lol.  :P

Thanks for the reviews!  They really mean a lot; I hope I've entertained you all enough to get even more feedback!  ^_^

But there's something I'd like to ask.  I'm thinking the next chapter should be of their dinner and of the final Badminton games.  Would that be too much?  If I do cram all that in, it'll be pretty long, and it might be a pretty long wait for the next chapter…  So what I want to know is if you guys want two separate, shorter chapters that'll probably be published faster, or just one long chapter of SSX goodness?  ^_^  I'll go with the one that has the most votes!

(Extra thanks to **Realitysplitter** for plugging me in her story!)

~**P**udgoose


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